Old Man Chrom (OBSOLETE)
by Velosaurus
Summary: Nobody knows what happened the day the Shepherds fell. All anyone knows is that they were all killed and Grima won. What happened to Chrom is the biggest mystery of all. For 30 years no one has heard hide nor hair of him, and in his place is an old man that must embark on a trip across the continent to preserve what little he still has. Get ready for the ride of your life, Chrom.
1. The Old Men

It was a quiet day at a tavern in a small farming town. A middle aged bartender tended to his glasses while bar patrons enjoyed their drinks. Everyone was drinking the same white creamy liquid. The bartender was busy trying to wipe stains caused by said drink away from his drinking glasses when he heard the door open. A battered and rugged old man slowly stepped into the tavern and walked towards the bar. The man had disheveled gray hair, though there seemed to be a handful of dark blue strands in there, and a rough and poorly trimmed beard that covered most of the lower half of his face. The man kept it from being completely unmanageable, but that was the extent of his grooming. The man's time ravaged skin seemed to want to pull his eyebrows down, giving him the look of a constant glare. The man's face was sunken and wrinkles were deeply engraved into it, spoiling his face for any positive expressions of emotion. The man's posture was very straight, and he was fairly toned and muscular, but he otherwise looked like he was pushing on his mid seventies. The man's clothes were ragged and unassuming. The only thing notable about them were bandages the man had on his right shoulder, but the man was clearly a laborer. It wasn't that unusual for someone like him to be injured. The man approached the bartender.

"Well if it isn't one of my best customers! Mercer, how are you doing, you old bastard?! How'd the day go? Find anything good?"

Mercer sat himself at the bar. "It wasn't bad actually. Mostly scrap metal, but I also found a broken healing staff. Sold it all for 300 gold."

"That's pretty good. You're a rich man among dirt farmers now, Mercer. What will you do with your fortune?" The bartender jested.

"Just get me a drink."

The bartender took out a bottle of kumis, an alcoholic beverage traditionally made from horse's milk, and handed it to Mercer. He winced at the sight of the drink, but he didn't refrain from taking a deep swig. Mercer recoiled at the taste the entire time, but he continued to drink until the bottle was half empty. The bartender gave him an amused look. "Every time you come here and get a drink you act like it's vomit, but still you drink it. What's the matter? You don't like Donald's kumis?"

"I hate kumis."

Donald chuckled to himself. "And yet you keep coming back. I have some other kinds of alcohol you know."

"Oh yeah? What's the cheapest?"

"I'll sell you a bottle of beer for 100 gold."

"100 gold! Who are you to charge that much for a damn bottle of beer?!"

"I don't have a choice! This stuff is rare. Ever since the Fell Dragon took over the world, crops just don't grow well anymore. Any kind of alcohol made from plants, which is almost every kind of alcohol, is hard to come by. It gets more expensive every year. Alcoholism isn't a cheap vice, Mercer."

"Yeah, yeah."

"It pays my rent though. As long as there are people, there will be taverns. Speaking of paying my rent, how about you buy that beer? You said you made 300 gold today! You can afford it."

"I can barely stomach this crap anymore." Mercer said as he looked warily at his bottle of kumis. "That's really tempting, but I have to save up. Rent is due soon. You know what the Grimleal landlords do when people don't pay rent."

"Sure. Have to pay the rent. I know what that's like."

Mercer and Donald turned when they heard a woman scream. A young woman was trying to free her arm from a young man and his rather forceful advances. "Come on, sweetheart!" The man stated in an attempt at a casual tone. "Don't just leave before we get to know each other! Anyone ever tell you that's rude?" The woman grabbed her drink from a nearby table and splashed it in the man's face. The man finally let go and the woman hurried out of the tavern. The man laughed it off and sat at the bar next to Mercer. He turned back towards Donald and took a swig of his kumis. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the man turning to him. Mercer knew the man would try to talk to someone to cover up his disheartened expression, and he tried very hard to make sure that someone wasn't him. Unfortunately he was the only other man in the tavern on his own, and the young man decided to engage in the kind of one sided conversation that only benefited the initiator. "Aww these girls are too uptight, eh? They wouldn't know a good time if it swept them off their feet. I need a new town. Somewhere where the bottles are full and the women are empty."

Mercer sighed and gave the man an unpleasant glare. "It's not the girls that are the problem, kid. It's you."

The young man acted like he wasn't hurt by Mercer's comment, though it was obvious he had actually expected some sympathy. "Oh that means so much coming from you, old man. When was the last time you were even with a woman? When was the last time you scored?"

Mercer's irritation briefly turned into rage, but he caught himself. "I had a wife and kids once, kid. I cared about much more important things than just 'scoring'. When you're older you'll see how damn stupid you sound right now."

"Whatever, old man. I for one won't be spending tonight alone."

"Keep telling yourself that." Mercer muttered to himself as he took another sip. The young man tapped his hands on his knees, clearly thinking of something else to say to Mercer. The young man talked a lot about looking for women, but he really seemed to want any kind of companionship at the moment. Much to his own chagrin, Mercer was the best he had.

"So uh… wife and kids, old man?"

Mercer slowly turned to face the young man. "Yeah." He growled.

"That's nice, old man. Everyone in town just knows you as the crazy old bastard who sells scrap metal for a living. Good to know you found someone who could stomach you. What happened to your family anyways? Your kids grow up? Your wife leave you for a less insane man?"

Again Mercer almost snapped at the young man, but he suppressed his rage. "Murdered."

The young man was briefly taken aback. "Oh. I-I'm sorry. That must have been rough on your kids."

"They died too. Same time."

The young man was silent for some time, but to Mercer's frustration he decided to speak up again. "My name is Conrad. What's yours?"

"Mercer."

"Nice to talk to you, Mercer."

"Hey Conrad, whatever you were planning on doing to that lady back there? Why don't you go do that to yourself."

Conrad sighed. "Prick."

The conversation between the two was interrupted by a group of five men bursting into the tavern. Donald glanced up and prepared to yell at them, but he went silent as soon as he realized who the men were. Four of them wore revealing fur and leather armor that made them resemble common thugs, but the man in front wore mage robes. Every man had the Mark of Grima tattooed somewhere on his body. The man in front had it tattooed right on his forehead. Strangely enough, a little girl seemed to be accompanying the men. "Which one of you is Conrad?!" The lead man shouted. A number of people in the tavern pointed towards the young man seated besides Mercer. The man buried himself in his drink, and by some miracle the Grimleal still didn't notice him. The little girl with the lead man walked up to Conrad however. She innocently tugged on his pants and didn't understand when Conrad tried to shoo her away. The lead man noticed and walked towards him.

"Well, well. If it isn't Conrad."

"W-what are you doing with my daughter!"

"We went to your house to find you, but you weren't home. Your little girl was all by herself. That's not responsible parenting."

"I had a babysitter!"

"Come to think of it, a young woman did leave in a hurry when we got there. I guess she was smart enough to see what was coming. You know what else is irresponsible parenting, Conrad?"

Conrad looked at his feet. "Not paying the rent?" He said sheepishly.

"You're a week late, boy. Do I look like a common thug to you? Do I look like some gang banger?" The man tapped on the tattoo on his forehead.

"N-no sir!"

"Who am I then?"

"Y-you're Courtney. You're the leader of the Grimleal around here."

Courtney smiled. "And who leads the Grimleal?"

"G-Grima."

"You're damn right boy! Our boss is a mountain sized dragon! It could wipe out everything you've ever known with its flatulence! Do you really want to be messing with us?!"

"No sir!"

Courtney turned and started addressing everyone in the tavern. "We don't ask much from you people. We really don't ask much. The other chapters of the Grimleal aren't as merciful as I am you know. They use people in their experiments. There's a lot of nasty things you can do with dark magic, let me tell you. They hoard food from the people so that they can eat like kings. That does sound tempting to me. They levy a 'tax' on wives and daughters. Let me tell you, there are some fine looking women around these parts. Do we do that to you people though? No! We have some respect for you all! All we ask is that you respect us back! All we ask is that you pay the _damn rent_ on time! Do you all do it?! Yes, yes you do for the most part. I'll give credit where credit is due. This town is pretty good about paying on time, but there are still a few bad eggs." Courtney turned to Conrad. "Stand up when I'm talking to you, boy!" Conrad stood up from his stool. "Now hold out your hand!"

"W-what?" He asked.

"HOLD OUT YOUR HAND! Do it like we gonna shake hands, boy!"

Conrad reluctantly held out his hand. Courtney drew a tome. Magical energy materialized in his right hand. He shook hands with Conrad, forcing this magical energy against his skin, and Conrad screamed in agony as it burned him. Courtney smiled sadistically as he held Conrad's hand, and he only let him go after almost a minute. Conrad fell to the floor screaming. "If you make us have to come back here, Conrad, we're going to do much more than just burn your hand." Courtney turned to the rest of the people in the tavern. "And if the town starts giving us problems, then we're going to have to get Grimleal Enforcers down here. Trust me, they're a lot less forgiving than we are." Courtney nodded towards his men and began to walk out of the tavern. "Come on, boys. Let's get out of here. I hate these dirt farming towns." The Grimleal left the tavern and the patrons returned to their drinks. Only Conrad's daughter came to his aid. She lightly tapped on her father while he sobbed uncontrollably. Mercer sighed and walked over to Conrad and slowly helped him to his feet.

"Thanks, old man." Conrad struggled to say through his whimpering. Mercer looked down at Conrad's daughter, who didn't seem to understand the severity of the situation at all.

"This is your little girl, huh?"

"Y-yeah."

Mercer punched Conrad in the stomach, sending him back to his knees. "You have a little girl and you're chasing women instead of paying your rent?! Do you know what the Grimleal Enforcers would do if they got their hands on her?! They'd make an example of her to the whole town! _**Don't**_ ever put your daughter's life in danger again!" Mercer angrily went back to the bar, retrieved his bottle, and then stormed out of the tavern.

"Shove off, old man!" Conrad yelled. "You're just a crazy old bastard! No one in this town really likes you, you know! Why don't you just lie down and die already?!"

"Believe me-" Mercer muttered under his breath "-nobody wants that more than I do."

Mercer angrily threw his empty bottle away as he stepped outside. "Damnit! I hate kumis."

"Then why do you drink it?"

Mercer turned to see the familiar face of a woman with unnatural light green hair. She wore loose fitting red robes and had her ears tucked away beneath her long hair. Nobody would suspect anything of it at a glance, but Mercer knew why she did it. Mercer hesitated for several seconds before responding, wondering if engaging with the woman was worth his time. "Because I can't afford anything else. Beer, wine, mead, spirits, it all got a lot more expensive now that nothing grows well anymore."

"Why don't you just stop drinking?"

"If I did that, the pain would come back."

"Drinking doesn't make your pain go away."

"What does that mean coming from you?" Mercer snapped. "You don't know a damn thing about being human, Tiki."

Tiki smiled faintly. "You're right. I don't know what it's like to be human. I've tried to understand for thousands of years, but just the act of living for thousands of years only further distances myself from humanity." Tiki stepped closer to Mercer. "You get worse and worse everytime I see you, Chrom."

" _ **Don't**_ call me that! That is not my name anymore!"

"Of course. You go by Mercer now. You like to think that Chrom died with the Shepherds all those years ago."

"Chrom is dead. I'm just a scavenger now."

"I know you blame yourself for what happened… Mercer. I know there isn't a soul in this world that hates you more than you do yourself. I know you think that you're a broken man." Tiki stepped closer to Mercer. For an instant it seemed like she was going to place her hand on his shoulder, but she paused when his glare grew more severe. "But I know there's still a hero in you."

"Let me die in peace."

"If death is what you really wanted, you would have taken that way out a long time ago. I know what you really want, Mercer… peace. I can give that to you."

"How many times have you come to see me since Grima won, Tiki?"

"I've lost count."

"Over three hundred times. Each time you've asked me for something. You ask me for less and less as the years go by, but you're always asking for something. You wanted me to rebuild the Shepherds. You wanted me to stop Grima and the Grimleal. You wanted me to take up the Falchion again. You wanted me to fight again. Have I ever agreed to any of it?"

"No."

"I'm not a hero. I'm not going on some foolish quest to save the world. The Shepherds are dead because of me, Tiki. It's over. Whatever it is you're going to ask of me, just _don't_."

"I know that you refuse to resist the Grimleal anymore. I know that you swore to never pick up a sword again after the Shepherds were killed. Even if you did, I doubt you still have the will needed to perform the Awakening ritual. I know you won't help to defeat Grima, Mercer, but that's not what I need from you. I believe you when you say you won't fight anymore, but there is someone else who can."

"What?"

"There is another member of the royal family."

Mercer's tired face twisted with fury. "The royal family is dead, Tiki! Who could you be talking about?! Lucina, Lissa, Emmeryn, Owain, they're all gone! They've been gone for thirty years!"

"I know that, Mercer. There is someone I'd like you to meet, however."

"Who the hell could that be?"

Tiki turned towards an alley behind the tavern and waved. "Come on out now, Ophelia." A blonde woman wearing a thick robe stepped out of the alleyway. She looked at Mercer nervously, and she darted her eyes away when he looked back. "Don't be shy, Ophelia. Chrom is an ally." Mercer scowled at his old name, but he didn't bring it up. He watched as Ophelia slowly stepped forward. He shrugged at her, imploring her to get to the point. Tiki looked at Ophelia and nodded. "Take off your robe, Ophelia. It's okay." Ophelia slowly nodded back. Reluctantly she removed her heavy robe, showing the revealing mage clothing underneath. The style and design of her clothes were reminiscent of what Plegian mages wore, but they were also much more brightly colored. Ophelia's clothing only drew Mercer's attention for an instant, however. His eyes were more attracted to a strange symbol on the woman's arm. It was the same symbol that Mercer covered up with his bandages.

"What… what is this?!"

Tiki looked at the old man that had once lead the Shepherds in defense of human civilization itself. "She's like you Chrom… very much like you."

* * *

A frail and unassuming man slowly made his way down the halls of the royal palace in Ylisstol. He approached the throne room and stopped as a soldier approached him. "State your business!" The heavily armored guard demanded. The guard wore blue and gold plate armor like what Ylissean soldiers had worn decades earlier under Chrom and Emmeryn's father, but the Mark of Grima was also engraved on the armor.

"I have a message for Emperor Gangrel from the High Inquisitor."

The guard nodded and allowed the attendant into the throne room. The attendant slowly approached the Emperor as he sat on his throne and bowed when he reached him. "I have a message from Aversa, milord. She requests your personal enforcer for a training exercise. She wants the newer recruits to learn from a professional."

Gangrel waved his arm. "Sure. Of course. She takes so much from me. What's one more possession of mine."

Gangrel's attendant eyed him uneasily. "You're… wearing that outfit?"

Gangrel stepped very close to his attendant. "Is that a problem?"

Gangrel's attendant was clearly afraid of him, but he was also too proud to hide his disgust towards Gangrel's outfit. The attendant's eyes darted around as he looked for the right words to say, words that would convey his revulsion to Gangrel's attire but still have enough humility to avoid Gangrel's wrath. "It's just that… Aversa does prefer you to wear your official Grimleal attire. The Emperor of humanity must look his best after all, especially since you represent the Fell Dragon itself as its appointed ruler of humanity."

"I wear those robes on official events, but when I'm alone in my castle I shall wear what I want. I assure you that I look my best in this outfit." Gangrel began to walk towards a small room near his throne room that was guarded by a number of heavily armored soldiers. Gangrel waved his arm and the soldiers dispersed. "My wife hates it. She considers it 'disturbing' and 'disgusting'. Women have a way of wearing you down. With their constant nagging and pecking they slowly strip you of almost everything they hate about you. The things you care about though, the things you really refuse to give up, those you can keep. This is one of those things." Gangrel walked into the room and his attendant followed him in. "This is my legacy!"

Gangrel admired himself in a large mirror on the wall. Gangrel's outfit was a horrible hodgepodge of various trophies taken from the long since slain Shepherds. His hair, still fiery red where it hadn't turned gray with age, had Lissa's jewelry and Maribelle's bows in it. He also had Cordelia's and Cherche's headbands on his head. Basilio's collar was around his neck, and he also had an armored extension that protected his neck taken from Sully's armor. His chest plate was from Frederick's armor, and the lower part of his abdomen was protected by armor taken from Kellam. His right shoulder plate was from Flavia, and he redundantly wore Severa's arm shield over it. The armor on his forearm was taken from Sumia and Cynthia's arm plating. It was too small to fit him normally, so he he tied them to his arm. His left shoulder plate came from Stahl's armor, and the armor on his left forearm came from Libra. He also covered parts of his arms with segmented armor taken from Say'ri, and the clothing that Lon'qu had worn over his upper arms. The lower parts of Gangrel's armor were taken from Yen'fay, and he also had armored plates coming down to cover his hips that were taken from Kjelle. His pants were taken from Gregor, and his belt was taken from Gaius. The armor on his lower right leg was from Vaike, and his left leg was covered with cloth taken from Owain's clothing. Finally he wore Viron's boots. He also had a number of trophies hanging from his belt. On his belt was Gerome's mask, the keepsake from his mother that Inigo had worn which itself had come from Olivia, the small bear that Anna had carried, and the feather that Noire had worn on her head. Gangrel also wore Lucina's cape on his back and had her parallel Falchion sheathed there as well, though he was incapable of wielding it properly.

There were also a number of other trophies in Gangrel's room that he couldn't fit on his body. On a shelf were Panne and Yarne's beaststones, the tattered and bloody outfits of Olivia, Henry, Tharja, and Morgan, Nah's dragonstone, a scale taken from Nowi in her dragon form, the hats of Miriel, Laurent, and Ricken, and Donnel's pot. Leaning against the wall was Brady's healing staff, one of Emmeryn's healing staves, Priam's Ragnell, and Walhart's personal axe Wolf Berg.

Gangrel had a trophy for every Shepherd save for Chrom, Tiki, Aversa, and himself. Robin was a unique case. Because Grima had made Robin the Hierophant, Robin didn't die with the other Shepherds. Gangrel didn't have a trophy from Robin, instead having his Levin sword, the only thing on him that wasn't taken from the Shepherds, to represent Robin. Tiki had been too powerful to kill, though the Grimleal hadn't heard from her in thirty years, and Chrom had apparently escaped death when the Shepherds were defeated. He too had long since gone into hiding. Aversa and Gangrel himself had been the ones to engineer the Shepherd's downfall, so Gangrel did not represent Aversa and himself with his trophies. He had enough of Aversa in the present day anyways.

Gangrel admired himself in the mirror and gave an uneasy laugh. "In ancient times warriors would wear trophies from their defeated enemies. Who am I to look down on that tradition? Why shouldn't I wear my outfit? I am not just the king of Plegia. I am not just the leader of the Grimleal. I am not just the man that Grima made Emperor of humanity. I am the slayer of all the Shepherds!" Gangrel broke out in a maniacal fit of laughter. "Why shouldn't I embrace that?!"

Gangrel's attendant feigned a smile and nervously saw himself out of the room as Gangrel descended into one of his unhinged laughing fits.


	2. The Heroine and the Mercenary

"Oh come on! You can't do this! We're related!" Ophelia furiously knocked on Mercer's door. "Let me in! I'm your grandniece!" Mercer didn't respond no matter how hard Ophelia banged on his door. It was like his house was abandoned.

"I'm sorry, Ophelia. Chrom is a good man. I promise you there's a hero under there. You can't give up on him."

Ophelia looked at Tiki with a determined look in her eye. "I won't. I'll get him to help me. I've come this far."

"I can't stay here, Ophelia. You know the Grimleal have a way of tracking me if I stay in one place too long." Tiki took out a sack of coins and handed it to Ophelia. "Here's some money. Buy food and supplies at the town if you need to. You can also afford to stay at an inn."

"Thank you, Tiki. I won't be leaving from this spot though. Not until he lets me in."

Tiki couldn't help but smile at Ophelia's resolve. "Goodbye, Ophelia. I'll see you soon." Tiki hugged her one last time before leaving, and Ophelia turned back to Mercer's door and pounded on it repeatedly. "You have to let me in eventually! I can do this all day!"

Minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into more than half the day. Ophelia was still at Mercer's door as the sun began to set. She was leaning against it and could barely stand anymore. She could only occasionally knock. "Please!" She moaned. She meant for it to come out as a command, but it ended up as more of a whine. "Let me in!" Ophelia's legs finally gave out on her and she slumped against the door. "I'm family! Let me in already!" Ophelia curled up on the porch and watched as the sun set, and even as darkness fell over the homestead Mercer still refused to respond to her. Even though she had seen him walk into the house with her own eyes, a part of Ophelia started to wonder if he was actually home. Surely the old man wasn't completely without empathy. As several more hours passed, Ophelia's tired body finally gave up on her. She fell asleep right there on the porch.

"Get up!"

"Huh? What?" Ophelia said in a groggy tone. The man standing over her responded by kicking her.

"Who are you, girl?!"

It was now very late at night. There were two men standing over Ophelia, both of them wielding crude weapons. One had a wooden club with nails in it, and the other had a piece of metal. "Who are you people?!"

"We're here to rob the old man who lives here. Are you going to stop us?"

"What? You're robbing him?"

The two men looked at each other. "Let's just kill her. We don't need witnesses anyways." The man with the wooden club prepared to strike Ophelia, but she was quicker. She drew her personal Missiletainn tome and blasted him with a burst of icy wind. The man went flying backwards, but the other man struck Ophelia with his piece of metal. He prepared for an overhead strike and was about to strike her again when a man came up behind him. He wrapped his arm around the robber's neck and plunged a knife into his back with his other arm. The robber struggled for only a few seconds before dying. When his body fell over Ophelia was able to see who had saved her, and a small smile appeared on her face.

"Th-Thanks." She stuttered. Mercer didn't respond. He simply walked back into his house and closed the door again. Ophelia followed him and pounded on the door. "Are you kidding me?! After that you're just going to ignore me again?! Let me in! I just saved your life! Those men were going to rob you! Come on! Let me in!" Ophelia slumped against the door. "Pleeeease! It's dark, and I'm hungry, and I hear wolves! Come on!" Ophelia was about to finally give up and wander into town when the door suddenly opened. Ophelia almost fell into Mercer. She turned to see his unfeeling face staring at her. "So… so does this mean I can come in?"

Mercer sighed. "Just put your things in the guest room. We'll talk in the morning."

"Is there… is there something to eat?"

"Dinner was hours ago." Mercer responded coldly. He walked into his house and disappeared into his room. Ophelia sighed.

"Well at least I'm in the house." She muttered as she closed the door.

Mercer woke up the next morning to find Ophelia sitting in a chair waiting for him. Beside her was a broken pile of wood. "Did that use to be one of my chairs?"

"I barely touched it!"

"It's alright. This place is falling apart. I just hope I go before it does."

Ophelia awkwardly tapped on her knees. "So uh, how about some breakfast? I can go to town and pick up some ingredients if you want?"

"How about you just get to the point. How do you have exalted blood, and what do you want with me?"

Ophelia wasn't overly excited about Mercer's treatment of her, but Tiki had warned her about what he was like. "Alright. I'll be direct. My name is Ophelia Dusk. I'm the chosen heroine! Cursed blood flows through my veins! The stars themselves align to give me their power! Our meeting was foretold by the stars!"

"What?"

"Erm, nevermind. Just call me Ophelia. I'm your grandniece, Chrom."

"Mercer. My name is Mercer." Mercer growled.

"Right. I'm sorry. Tiki always calls you Chrom."

"Of course she does. _Do not_ call me that."

"Okay! Okay."

"How can you be my grandniece?"

"I'm Lissa's granddaughter. My father was Owain."

Mercer was silent for awhile. He didn't seem shocked. Rather he seemed to be eyeing Ophelia closely, as if he didn't believe her and he was just trying to look for signs of lying. "How could you possibly be Owain's daughter?"

"Well, he didn't exactly raise me. He only knew my mother briefly. She was a peasant woman. She tells me they got to know each other when he was visiting the town."

"Owain had you from a one night stand?!" Mercer exclaimed.

"Well… I'd like to think it was more romantic than that. I'm sure he would have seen my mother again. It's just that…"

"He died with the other Shepherds before he could?"

Ophelia looked down. "Yes."

"So you were conceived right before the Shepherds fell? You weren't even born yet when Owain died?"

"I think so."

Mercer got up and examined Ophelia's mark very closely. "When did you get this? When did it appear?"

"When I was a teenager."

"Well it's real. We really are related." Mercer took a deep breath. "What do you want from me? I'm not a hero anymore. I'm not going on some adventure. I won't even pick up a sword anymore."

"You won't pick up a sword?"

"I swore to never pick up a sword again after the Shepherds died. I'll fight with my fists or small knives to defend myself, but I'm never touching a sword again."

Ophelia thought carefully about what to say. "I know you don't want to help Tiki, Mercer. I'm not going to ask that of you."

"So you're not going to fight against the Grimleal?"

"Of course I'm going to! I'm not asking you to join me right now though. I just need one simple thing from you. It's not some quest to stop Grima or anything like that. I promise it's much smaller than that."

"And what is that?"

Ophelia steeled herself. "I'm not the only daughter of a Shepherd in the world. Tiki found others. There's another woman. I've known her since we were teenagers. Her name is Soleil. She's being held about twenty kilometers from here by the Grimleal, but there aren't many of them there. I'm not asking you to fight against an army. I just need you to help me save my friend."

"I was serious when I said I won't pick up a sword."

"Then just come along!" Ophelia gave Mercer puppy dog eyes. "Please don't throw me out. Please help me! I know you won't fight against the Grimleal anymore, but please just help me with this one thing! Forget about Tiki for a moment. Forget about her wanting you to train me with the Falchion. Just help me with this one task! Help me save my friend! They're going to kill her!"

Mercer sighed. "Alright. I'll come along. How are we going to get there though?"

Ophelia smiled. "Come with me." Ophelia walked outside of the house and whistled. Mercer shrugged at her. Ophelia struck a valiant pose. "You want to know how I got here? Just wait and see!" Mercer had no idea what to expect, but he never expected to see a black wyvern swoop down and land right outside his house. The wyvern roared into the sky, but it was friendly to Ophelia when she ran up to it.

"Is that a wyvern?!"

"Yep! This is my ride. It's how we got around."

"You and Tiki?"

"Of course not! Tiki can fly remember?"

"Right." Mercer slowly approached the wyvern. The dragon eyed Mercer suspiciously. Ophelia quickly darted in front of Mercer as he neared it.

"Woah, woah! Stay back! She doesn't like strangers!" Mercer ignored her and slowly walked towards the wyvern. The wyvern did nothing as Mercer cautiously placed his hand on its hide. Ophelia's eyes widened. "She… she's letting you touch her? I've never seen that happen before." Mercer turned back to Ophelia with a tear in his eye.

"I know this wyvern." He said very solemnly. "This is Minerva!"

"You recognize her! That's right, she is Minerva. She's Cherche's old wyvern."

"And Gerome's." Mercer added. "Where… where could you possibly have-"

"Tiki gave her to me. She's getting on in years I know, but she's still a capable mount." Ophelia embraced Minerva, and the wyvern nudged her with her snout. "Yes you are, girl! Yes you are." Ophelia turned back to Mercer to find him on the verge of sobbing. He trembled as memories Ophelia couldn't imagine flooded back to him. Mercer took a few steps backwards and fell over. "Gods!" Ophelia rushed to Mercer's aid and helped him to his feet. "I'm so sorry! I-I should have known that Minerva would remind you of the Shepherds! I just didn't know you'd recognize her."

Mercer didn't look at Ophelia. He seemed to be staring off into space. "It's… it's alright. I'm fine… I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah let's just… let's just go."

"Have you ever actually ridden on a wyvern before?"

"I've ridden on a Pegasus before." Mercer responded nervously. Ophelia smiled.

"That's nothing! A Pegasus flies like a horse runs for whatever reason. Wyverns on the other hand are truly built for flight. The ride isn't as smooth, but it's a lot more exhilarating!" Ophelia mounted Minerva and gestured for Mercer to follow. Mercer took a deep breath and carefully mounted Minerva. The instant he was seated, Minerva took off and ascended into the sky. Ophelia screamed in triumph. Mercer just screamed.

* * *

Ophelia had Minerva land near a small isolated shack hidden away in a forest. Thirty years ago a forest like this wouldn't have been noteworthy at all, but the vast majority of plant life on the continent had died out ever since the Fell Dragon took over the world. Even if Gangrel and Aversa had convinced Grima to spare humanity in exchange for the fealty of the entire species, Grima still took the precaution of wiping away most of the ecosystem as it did in Lucina's timeline. Grima had the power to make the soil itself die. Only the hardiest plants could grow anymore, and even then they could only grow in very ideal conditions. Grima's destruction of the food chain had lead to mass extinctions. Agriculture was only possible in certain areas of Ylisse and Plegia, and almost the entirety of Ferox had become uninhabitable. The forest Ophelia and Mercer were in only existed because the Grimleal allowed it to exist. Hidden away underneath the trees was The Rockpile, one of the most notorious of Gangrel's concentration camps. Here the Grimleal spirited away anyone that resisted their rule. When individuals became problematic, Grimleal Enforcers or landlords simply killed them. When resistance became organized, however, the Grimleal relied on camps like The Rockpile to silently break these rebellions. The horrible reality was that Grima could always choose to wipe out humanity at any time. The Grimleal had to make it look like the entire species was loyal to Grima, else the Fell Dragon might decide to simply destroy humanity to spare itself the trouble. The ugly truth about Gangrel's rule was that it was the only thing keeping humanity alive. Had Validar still lead the Grimleal when Grima was resurrected, he would have happily allowed the Fell Dragon to destroy his own kind.

Thankfully for Ophelia however, Soleil wasn't taken to The Rockpile. She was instead taken to the small shack Ophelia and Mercer had found. There she was being interrogated by one of Courtney's agents. Courtney knew that Soleil and Ophelia were connected to Tiki, and he knew that Gangrel would reward him greatly if he captured her. Courtney wasn't about to share his glory with the Grimleal agents that ran the camp; agents that reported to High Inquisitor Aversa instead of Emperor Gangrel. Inside the shack three men stood over a young woman. The man in front wore mage robes identical to the clothing Courtney wore. The men behind him didn't have any kind of uniformity to them, except that they all had the Mark of Grima tattooed on their bodies. The young woman was dressed as a standard mercenary. She had long light pink hair, and a smile on her face. She was tied to the chair so that she couldn't move her arms or legs. The lead man paced back and forth, looking at the woman the entire time. "If you just talk to us this will all be over, or do we need to get the bamboo splints again?"

The woman's only response was to laugh. "Why don't you do that. I could use the break."

The man walked over to a table and put on brass knuckles. The woman didn't even wince. The man stepped close to her. "We know you're not alone! We know you hang around with a blonde woman and a red haired Pegasus Knight, and we know that the three of you have regular contact with Tiki, the Voice of Naga. We know she is the one that sent you here. We know she's nearby." The man slammed his fist on the woman's restrained hand. She bit her lip in agony, but she didn't cry out. "Tiki is a war criminal! The Grimleal have been hunting her for thirty years! If you have any information on her, then you will tell us right now or you will never see the light of day again!" The woman looked up at the man. Her face was contorted with anger, but she was also smiling. The man looked at her with a mix of confusion and frustration. "What are you smiling at?!" He roared. The woman looked the man dead in the eye and started giggling, smiling all the while.

"I'm smiling at you, you fop!"

"Stop smiling!"

"Come on! Turn that frown upside down. Know what you have then? A smile! That's what my father used to say, my mother tells me anyways."

"I will rend the flesh from your bones!"

"I-I will never stop smiling at you." The woman struggled to say through her giggling. She suddenly broke into a full laugh. The man became increasingly infuriated. He struck her in the stomach, but still she kept laughing.

"And why is that?!"

"Because you're with the Grimleal. You control the world! You're on the winning side! Grima conquered everything and the Grimleal rule over humanity for Grima, but even after all that you can't get one young woman to tell you anything! I'm just one woman and you can't get a thing from me! You're pathetic!" The woman's laugh became a harsh cackle. "You're nothing!"

The man struck the woman a third time, causing her to bleed from her mouth. The man put his right hand on the woman's neck and squeezed. He then shifted it up and grabbed her chin as if he were trying to tear it off. He brought his face close to hers and forced her to look him in the eye. "I'm going to break you, woman! You're going to tell me everything I want to know!"

The woman stopped laughing, but she didn't stop smiling. "Maybe, but I'm going to make you work for it."

"You won't be so defiant forever. No one is coming to help you."

The woman's smile only grew bigger. "Oh really?"

As if by some act of providence, it was then that Ophelia burst through the wall with Minerva. Minerva immediately struck the lead man with her head, sending him flying against the wall. Ophelia dismounted and blasted one of the men with her Missiletainn tome. Minerva quickly grabbed the last man with her jaws and violently thrashed him back and forth. Ophelia ran up to Minerva and waved her arms. "Stop, stop! Minerva, what did I tell you about eating strange men!" Minerva looked at Ophelia while the man struggled helplessly in her jaws. "Put him down! _Put him down_!" Minerva hung her head and dropped the man. He was too injured to keep fighting. All he could do was whimper and moan. "Bad Minerva! Don't eat strangers! Did Cherche teach you that? Shame on you! No! Don't do that!" Minerva hung her head like a guilty dog, and Ophelia hugged her. "Oh come on, girl. Don't be like that. I'm not mad at you. Who's a good wyvern? You are. You are!" The entire time this had been going on, Mercer was still seated on Minerva's back.

"What the hell was that?!" He exclaimed. "Wha-What the hell?!"

"You told me you wouldn't pick up a sword. I had to take them out somehow."

Ophelia ran up to the woman and cut her out of her bonds. She hugged her tightly as soon as she rose to her feet. "Soleil, you're okay! I knew you'd be okay!"

Soleil blushed. "Ophelia you're uh… you're not wearing that thick robe anymore. I can see much more of you." Ophelia handed Soleil a tissue and she wiped the blood off her face. Ophelia then retrieved a change of clothes from her bag and handed them to Soleil. "Thanks! Now I can get out of these rags." Mercer dismounted Minerva and approached Soleil.

"Are you okay? They didn't do anything serious did they?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Soleil started to strip right in front of Mercer. "You're him aren't you? You're the man Ophelia was trying to find?!"

"Yes I-gaah! W-What are you doing?"

"Changing my clothes. The ones I'm wearing have too much sweat and blood on them for my tastes."

"Right in front of me?"

"Problem, old man?" Soleil asked innocently. Mercer gave Ophelia an incredulous expression. Ophelia just shrugged.

"She's not shy."

Mercer turned around. "I'm Chrom if that's what you were asking. I don't go by that name anymore though."

"Oh? What do you call yourself then?"

"Mercer. My name is Mercer."

"Don't call him Chrom." Ophelia added. "Trust me. You want to call him Mercer."

"It's so nice to meet you… Mercer. Tiki has told us so much about you."

Mercer turned to Soleil, only to find that she was still half naked. "So who are-gah!" Mercer turned around again, the slightest signs of blushing under his weathered skin. "I can't talk to you like this."

Soleil rolled her eyes and finished putting on her new clothes. She now wore a combination of leather and plate armor. She had a shield on her arm, and she wore armor on her arms and legs. Mercer turned around to see that she looked eerily reminiscent of Inigo and Severa. She also resembled another Shepherd, but Mercer couldn't put his finger on who it was. He just knew there was someone she reminded him of. "Are you like Ophelia? Are you the daughter of a Shepherd?"

Soleil's smile grew until she was grinning from ear to ear. "Yep! Can you tell who?"

Mercer's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Olivia! Y-You look just like her! Your hair! Your face! I… you look…" Mercer's lip began to quiver. "Oh gods." He said to himself. "You look just… you look just…"

Soleil almost frowned. "I uh, I haven't heard of her. Was she a Shepherd?"

"You're Inigo's daughter aren't you? I can see so much of him in you, and I can see his mother in you too."

"Yes! That's me! I'm Soleil! They call me the smiling mercenary! Someday I'm going to be the hero that my father was!"

"Did you know Inigo well?"

"Well… no. Not exactly."

Mercer sighed. "I didn't think so. Did he even know you were born?"

"I don't think so. I know how great a man he was though. My mother spoke highly of him."

"Who was she?"

"Just a peasant woman. Wait no! I didn't mean… I mean, I didn't mean she's _just_ a peasant woman like it's a bad thing. So was I really. It's just that she was so different from my father. He was a big hero off saving the world… and mom was left behind."

"I'm sure he would have come back if he knew, Soleil." Mercer frowned. "Except we didn't save the world… and he didn't come back."

"Do you really think so?"

"It's hard to imagine Inigo as a father, but it's also hard to imagine that he would abandon his daughter. I'm sure he would have loved you and your mother if… if things had been different."

"Things can be different! We have you now Chrom, I mean Mercer. I can't believe it's you!" Soleil looked Mercer up and down. "You're so rugged. I wish I was rugged. Girls just aren't as attracted to more feminine things."

"Girls?"

"Some women just want a man that looks like he could tear down a tree with his bare hands. I wish I was rugged like you, Mercer. Then maybe I'd have a chance with them."

"Uhh, that might have something to do with you also being a woman."

"Some people swing both ways." Soleil started staring blankly into space. "I wonder what it would be like if I had a beard. Ha! A light pink beard! Could you imagine?"

Mercer turned to Ophelia. "They tortured her and she's acting like it's any other day?"

"I don't think I've ever seen her really unhappy."

Mercer and Ophelia looked to see Soleil retrieving her sword. She brought her blade to the neck of her interrogater, who had been trying to sneak away. "Things aren't exactly going your way anymore are they?" Soleil said menacingly. There was a dissonance to her threat though, as it came out of a seemingly warm and friendly smile. The Grimleal agent looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Y-You can't kill me! Do you know who I am?!"

Soleil pressed her blade against the man's neck, almost cutting him. "I've killed members of the Grimleal before. So did my father, and his father and mother."

"Soleil, he's beaten! There's no point in killing him." Ophelia said nervously.

"If you kill him then Grimleal enforcers will come to investigate his death." Mercer added. "If you let him live though, he'll crawl back a defeated man. He would be humiliated. They might even punish him."

Soleil finally relented. The man scurried out of the shack and ran into the wilderness. She turned to Mercer and Ophelia. "Let's just get out of here."

The group made their way back towards Mercer's town. As the sun set they landed in a clearing in the forest about seven kilometers away from Mercer's home. The three set up camp and prepared to spend the night. Mercer watched as Ophelia and Soleil shared snacks by the bonfire. Ophelia noticed him looking and walked over to him. She held out her bag in front of Mercer and he silently took some food. "Thank you." Ophelia smiled and returned to sitting near the bonfire. Mercer continued to stare at the two women though until Soleil finally looked up at him.

"You okay over there, old man?" Soleil asked nervously.

"So Tiki recruited you two because you're Owain and Inigo's daughters?"

"That's correct." Soleil said cheerily.

"And she's going to do what exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?! I'm asking what the hell you think you're doing! I'm sure Tiki filled your heads with stories about saving the world, but you're going to get killed!"

"But we have you now Ch-I mean Mercer. You can teach Ophelia to wield the Falchion. You can help her defeat Grima."

"Woah, woah! You do not 'have me'!"

Soleil's cheery expression abated slightly. "What do you mean?" She turned to Ophelia, and she received a worried look.

"Remember how Tiki said he would be reluctant to help?"

"Yes?"

"He doesn't want anything to do with us. I could barely get him to help me rescue you, and even then he refuses to fight with a sword."

Soleil turned to Mercer and gave him a look of poorly suppressed agitation. "Y-You're kidding?! We come all the way out here, and I get _tortured_ , so that he can just refuse to help?!"

"I helped save you didn't I?" Mercer shot back. "I'm just not going to go on a foolish quest to save the world! Neither of you know what you're doing!"

"We have Tiki to guide us. She's the voice of Naga!"

"Tiki is misguided. She doesn't understand how fragile normal humans are. She doesn't understand how to defeat Grima. Naga didn't know how to defeat Grima! You two don't have a chance! If you listen to that lizard, you'll die."

Soleil was incensed. "How dare you?! Do you know how highly Tiki thinks of you?! You can't abandon us, Chrom!"

Mercer exploded. " **DON'T CALL ME THAT**!" His voice thundered through the wilderness, obliterating the still silence of the night air. "Call me that one more time, girl! Call me that ONE MORE TIME! See what happens!"

Soleil was almost shaking with anger, yet even then she still wore her smile. "You're supposed to be a hero. You're supposed to be someone we can depend on. Are you telling me that one of the greatest heroes in history is now nothing more than a bitter old man?!"

Ophelia threw herself in between the two. "Stop! Both of you! Please!" Ophelia turned to Soleil. "Please just give it some time. He's not so bad when you get to know him. Tiki wouldn't want you fighting with him, and he did help me save you." Soleil sighed and sat down. Ophelia turned back to Mercer. "I know you don't think highly of us, but give us a chance. Let's just… let's just not worry about Tiki's plans right now. Let's just sit down and get to know each other, huh?"

Mercer scowled. "Get to know each other?"

"I'm sure you have questions for Soleil."

Mercer sat down. He turned to Soleil, who was staring daggers at him. "Fine. So how did you and Ophelia meet each other?"

Soleil and Ophelia smiled at each other. "It's a long story, but it's a good one. There's something you should know about me though… Mercer. When I show you this, just remember that you found me being tortured by the Grimleal. I'm not like this anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

Soleil pulled up her sleeve. The Mark of Grima was tattooed on her upper arm. It seemed to stare ominously at Mercer, and he jumped up. "Why do you have that?!"

"Because I was a soldier for the government once, Mercer, and the Grimleal _is_ the government."

"You were with the Grimleal?!"

"Hear me out. I was a peasant girl. I was bored. I wanted to go on adventures. I wanted to be a dashing heroine. I wanted all the girls in the land to swoon at the sound of my name."

"You really are Inigo's daughter." Mercer muttered to himself.

"Do you know how hard it is to hit on a woman when you're wearing a mud soaked peasant dress? On the other hand every woman loves a man in uniform. I figured they might like a woman in uniform too. I joined the Grimleal to become that valiant figure that all the girls would fawn over."

"You joined the Grimleal to pick up girls?!"

"That's all I ever wanted! I didn't know what they were like."

"So what happened?"

"I didn't exactly go on many adventures. I mostly went around collecting rent and dealing with dissent. I slowly started to realize that this wasn't the life I wanted. I didn't do anything about it though until I met Ophelia. She had been causing trouble. She was stirring up resistance against the Grimleal, telling people stories about Lucina and Emmeryn and… well you, Mercer. My CO had her taken into the center of a town. I was ordered to beat her into unconsciousness as a lesson to the people in the town." Soleil looked solemnly at Ophelia. Ophelia smiled at her and silently urged her to finish the story. "When I looked into her eyes… I saw nothing but defiance. She wasn't afraid. She wouldn't be bullied. She knew that she was in the right, and we were monsters. As I gazed into those eyes I realized that her will was greater than mine. I realized she was right. I drew my sword and plunged it into my CO. I helped her escape, and we've been together ever since."

"I'm… I'm not sure what to make of that story."

"I'm not with the Grimleal anymore, Mercer! I'm helping Ophelia and Tiki now. We're trying to fix things. I'm not some jackbooted thug anymore." Mercer stared contemplatively at Soleil and Ophelia. Soleil's nigh eternal smile almost faded completely. "Please tell me you're not angry with me?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that. I'm not going to hold your past against you." Mercer looked down. "It's just that… you two turned out so much like your fathers."

Both Ophelia and Soleil perked up. "R-Really?" Soleil inquired. Mercer smiled.

"You especially, Soleil. You're like a more intense version of him."

"B-But I'm like my father too right?" Ophelia asked.

"Definitely. Your talent for magic, your personality, your mannerisms, it's almost exactly like him. You might have even ended up speaking like him if he'd raised you. You're also very much like your grandmother. I… I can almost see her in you."

Ophelia took a deep breath. "Well while we're on the subject… umm…"

"What is it?"

Ophelia looked at Soleil and seemed to urge her to ask Mercer. Soleil rolled her eyes and nodded. She turned to Mercer. "We know that you don't like to think about your past, Mercer, but… Ophelia wanted to know-"

"Hey!"

"Alright, alright. Ophelia _and I_ wanted to know more about the Shepherds."

Mercer didn't say anything for several seconds. He seemed to be frozen in a mixture of shock and sadness. "I… I don't know." Ophelia gave him the same puppy dog stare that she had given him when she thought he would throw her out of his house. Mercer gave in again. "Alright, alright." He said slowly. "I'll answer some questions."

Ophelia and Soleil both smiled from ear to ear, and they wasted no time in bombarding Mercer with questions. "What was Lucina like?" Ophelia asked.

"How did you guys recruit Walhart?" Soleil chimed in. "Wasn't he trying to kill you?"

"How did you guys eat?"

"Who did the laundry?"

"Did you guys bathe regularly?"

"What did you do in the winter?"

"If the second generation Shepherds touched their younger selves, would it have created a temporal paradox?"

"Did anyone ever get leave?"

Mercer put his hands over his ears and shook his head as the questions overwhelmed him. "Argh! No more! Too many questions! Just pick one, both of you!"

Soleil and Ophelia looked at each other and nodded. "What were our fathers like?" They both asked simultaneously. Mercer thought for some time. The question made him uncomfortable, but he tried his best to answer it. He had a feeling that the questions would never end if he didn't respond to the ones the girls really wanted answered.

"Well… uh they… they were… uh-" Mercer had Ophelia and Soleil's complete attention, and he knew he had to answer them. He sighed. "Well, Ophelia, your father was very… energetic. He was strong and… um, brave. Soleil, your father was very good with people. He was strong and… erm… brave."

Soleil shook her head. "That's a cop out!"

"I'm trying my best!"

"No you're not!"

"I don't want to think about them okay!"

"Why not?! We never knew our fathers, Mercer. You're our only way to learn more about them. Why can't you just tell us?"

"Because they died with all the others, and I don't want to relive that!" Mercer yelled. He buried his face in his hands and fought back tears. "I'm sorry." He said in a very soft tone. "I know you two want to know about them, but please, _please_ don't make me relive that."

Soleil and Ophelia both looked at each other and silently decided not to press any further. "We're sorry, Mercer." Soleil said. "We didn't want to make you upset."

Mercer took a deep breath and calmed himself. "No I'm sorry. You just want to know more about your fathers, and I can't give that to you. I'm letting you down." Mercer was silent for a long time. "I just… I just can't relive those memories. There's too much pain there. I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

Mercer spoke up. "But… there is something I want you to know. Your fathers, Owain and Inigo, they were very upbeat. Lucina… she's, she was, I mean… I loved her. She was my daughter. I would love her no matter what she did or what happened to her. It's just that she was so grim. When you were around Owain or Inigo, they were always lighthearted. When you were around them you didn't feel like the world was about to end."

Soleil smile grew even wider. "Thank you, Mercer. What was Severa like?"

"W-What? Severa? Cordelia's daughter? Why would you want to know about her specifically?"

Soleil turned to Ophelia. "You didn't tell him?"

"I could barely get him to let me into his house! I was going to tell him eventually."

"Tell me what?" Mercer asked, an urgency hidden in his tone.

Soleil turned to Mercer. "We're not the only two Tiki found. There's another woman in our merry little band. She's like us. She's the daughter of a Shepherd. She's a Pegasus Knight. In fact she's the last Pegasus Knight since the Grimleal purges. Her name is Caeldori."

Mercer thought about what Soleil said. "Caeldori? Cael-C-A-E… C-O-R… that name is eerily similar to the name of a woman I once knew."

"It's not a coincidence, Mercer. She's Cordelia's granddaughter."

Mercer looked at Soleil like she'd just turned into a dragon. "What?" He barely managed to speak, his words coming out in a very flat tone.

"She's Severa's daughter."

"Y-You're lying! You're messing with me!"

"I'm not lying, Mercer! You'd see the resemblance if you could take one look at her."

"Severa was a woman! Women give birth!"

"... I'm aware of that."

"It makes sense that Inigo and Owain could have had kids without knowing, but how could Severa have a child without knowing? She couldn't have been pregnant for nine months without anyone noticing!"

Ophelia thought about what Mercer was telling her. "Then she didn't die."

Mercer's eyes widened as he realized the significance of what Ophelia was saying. "What?!"

"She didn't die, Mercer! It's the only explanation! You're right. She couldn't have carried a child to term without anyone noticing. She must have survived, or else Caeldori could never have been born." Ophelia's eyes lit up as she realized the implications of what she was saying. "She didn't die, Mercer! Severa didn't die! If she didn't die, then maybe others lived too!"

"Ophelia." Mercer responded weakly.

"What if there are other Shepherds that are still out there!"

"Ophelia!" Mercer shouted. Ophelia still didn't hear him.

"If we could get them together, we could rebuild the Shepherds!"

"And maybe they had kids too!" Soleil added.

"We could rebuild the Shepherds. We could defeat the Grimleal! We could save the world!"

"GIRLS, SHUT UP! Just shut up! It's not happening! They're dead! It's over." Mercer rose to his feet. Ophelia and Soleil looked hurt, but Mercer didn't relent. "I don't want to hear another word! Neither of you say anything. Not one more word! I don't care what Tiki told you. I'm not that man anymore. I'm not the hero you think I am! Chrom is dead! He died with his children… and his wife… and his sisters… and his friends. I'm just an old man. All I want is to die!"

"You're lying!" Soleil snapped back, though her tone was shaky. She was trying to convince herself of the truth of her words as much as she was trying to convince Mercer. "You could have killed yourself long ago. You won't do it because there's still part of you that cares!"

Mercer glared at Soleil so intensely that she couldn't maintain eye contact. "The only reason, the ONLY reason I haven't killed myself is because if I died… no one would remember the Shepherds as they really were. If I died… their memory would die too. I just want the pain to end. I don't deserve to live. I should have died with them… but I didn't. Now I just drink and wait for my body to give out. I leave it in fate's hands now." Mercer looked down at his feet. "Everyone dies eventually but… but I can't end my life now. I can't let the memories of the Shepherds die. I drink to forget them yes, but I still have them. If I died before Naga intends for me to… I'd be dishonoring them all. All I can do now is drink and pay the rent until my body finally gives out."

Soleil and Ophelia stared at Mercer for a long time, neither of them saying a word. Mercer just stood there looking at his feet. Finally Ophelia spoke up. "Tiki said you were a hero once. The things she told me… to see you like this now… what, what did they do to you?"

Mercer's anger faded. He gave Ophelia a dejected look. "They broke me." With that he turned and wandered off into the wilderness. Soleil and Ophelia had no idea if he was going to come back, but neither of them particularly wanted to talk to him anymore. Soleil turned to Ophelia.

"Hey Ophelia?"

"Yeah?"

"This might have been a waste of time."

Everything that Ophelia was wanted to disagree with Soleil, but it was hard to argue with her as she watched Mercer disappear deeper into the wilderness.

* * *

Mercer walked seven kilometers back to town by himself. Though Ophelia and Soleil did eventually catch up to him, he refused to have anything to do with them. Reluctantly the two women went back to Minerva and flew back into town. Mercer reached the town square by morning. There he found a small crowd gathered around the square. He lightly pushed and shoved his way to the front of the crowd to find the objects of their morbid fascination. The corpses of Conrad and his very young daughter were lying in the street. They were stripped completely naked, and there were clear signs of beating on their bodies. Both corpses also had the Mark of Grima carved into their backs. Donald the bartender eventually emerged from the crowd near Mercer. He put his hand on Mercer's shoulder and slowly rocked him, though Mercer barely seemed to notice his presence. He just stared in shock at the town square.

"Mercer… I'm sorry about what happened. The Grimleal came back to Conrad's house and dragged him and his little girl into the town square. They beat them to death in broad daylight, and then they did that. They say they'll kill anyone that tries to bury them." Mercer didn't turn to face Donald. He only groaned lightly. "Look Mercer, we're friends. You trusted me with your secret. I know that you wouldn't have stood for this thirty years ago. I know what you're capable of. I know that this makes you angry. Don't do anything stupid though! If you retaliate, they'll come back for the whole town. Just forget about it."

Mercer finally spoke up. "How can I possibly forget about them when they're lying right there in the square." Mercer said in a low and threatening tone. Donald just patted Mercer on the shoulder again.

"You try really hard." Donald walked away and Ophelia approached Mercer. He turned to her.

"It's good to see that you made it back. We were worried about you after you wouldn't let us give you a ride. Did you… did you know them?"

Mercer looked Ophelia dead in the eye. "Ophelia?"

"Yeah?"

"Get me a sword."


	3. The Clarity of Revenge

In a rundown but still highly trafficked brothel a few kilometers away from Mercer's town, five men with the Mark of Grima tattooed on their bodies stepped out of a room full of sleeping and groggy women in various states of undress. A middle-aged woman dressed only slightly more modestly than her younger employees watched them eagerly as they put on their robes and armor. "I take it you boys had a good time with us today?"

A man in mage robes smiled as he straightened his clothing. He handed the woman a large sack of coins. "Give the girls our regards when they regain consciousness." The men behind him chuckled. The woman laughed along.

"Of course. I must say I wasn't expecting you boys today. It's certainly not your usual time. What's the occasion?"

The men finished dressing themselves and started to exit the building. The madam walked alongside them as they did. "Courtney gave us the day off and a bonus. We thought we'd live a little to celebrate."

"How generous. What is he celebrating?"

The man gave an unsettling smile as he remembered Courtney's plan to lure out Tiki. "Trust me, you do not want to know."

Mercer stood staring at the five men as they left the brothel. He wore baggy trousers with tears and holes in them that he kept covered with bandages along with a dark blue loose fitting work shirt with a tattered darker blue vest over it. Mercer wore a brown poncho over his vest, but he wore it in such a way that his right shoulder was left exposed. A dark blue hood came out from his poncho. Mercer kept it down around his neck, leaving his unkempt gunmetal gray hair fluttering lightly in the breeze. Mercer had the rest of his right arm covered with white bandages, but his right shoulder was now uncovered. Mercer's left arm was covered in padded leather armor. Mercer wore a single metal shoulder plate over his left shoulder, and a homemade shoulder plate made from fastened scrap metal over his right shoulder that seemed to serve as a fastener for his poncho. Mercer made sure that it didn't cover his right shoulder, however. The Mark of Naga on his right shoulder, the mark that proved who Mercer really was, was uncovered for the first time in decades. In Mercer's right hand was a sword. It was a sword Mercer hadn't wielded in thirty years, but it was a sword that had been with him his whole life nonetheless. The sword's hilt was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Where Mercer wasn't grabbing the sword, it looked like it hadn't been touched in years. The sword's blade on the other hand was coated with dried blood. Mercer hadn't lifted so much as a finger to clean it, but he knew that his sword wouldn't be blunted. His sword was a divine weapon that had been wielded by his ancestors for millennia. It was indestructible. It wouldn't be dulled from lack of cleaning. Mercer wanted it to be covered with the remains of the men and women he had killed with it. He wanted the Grimleal agents in front of him to see what remained of their comrades. He wanted them to be afraid. Mercer's blue eyes gave a piercing stare to the men in front of him. In Mercer's heart was a passion that he hadn't felt since he was a far younger man, but in his eyes was a hatred that his younger self would have abhorred. "Try me." He growled.

The madam fled back into the brothel. The five Grimleal agents stood in shock at the sight of the man in front of them, and they were particularly intrigued by his birthmark as they stared at the brand on his arm. "It's, it's him! The legends are true! The leader of the Shepherds still lives!" One of the men shouted. Another man smiled mockingly.

"What? He couldn't go down with the men and women under his command?" Mercer didn't respond. He just tightened his grip on the Falchion and waited for one of the men to move first. One of the Grimleal agents stepped in front of the others.

"How does it feel to know that your daughter was more of a man than you are? At least she died on her feet. You'll die alone, you sad old man." Mercer's grip tightened even more, but he still didn't move. Another man stepped forward.

"Dying early runs in your blood, Chrom! Your mother and father, your sisters, your children, everyone related to you has died young! Are you the bastard in the family or something?" At this point Mercer was gripping his sword so tightly that his hand was shaking, but he still didn't move. The first man stepped even closer to Mercer.

"Come to see the girls, old man? Are they the only people that will spend any time with you?"

"No." Mercer snarled. He burst into a full sprint. As the men desperately fumbled for their weapons, Mercer ran onto a large rock in front of him and used it as a jumping point. He jumped into the closest man and kicked him to the ground with both of his legs. He quickly stabbed the man with the Falchion as he struggled to get Mercer off of him. "I'm just here to kill you people." Mercer then ducked to avoid an attack from another man. Mercer allowed the man to take another swing at him with his sword and dodged so that the man accidentally hit his comrade before grappling with him. He disarmed the man, maneuvered behind him, and then stabbed him with his own sword. As the man fell to his knees in agony, Mercer snapped his neck for good measure. Mercer then spun around and bashed a man in the face with the hilt of his sword as he tried to attack with a tome. Another man tried to charge Mercer with a spear, but Mercer grabbed the shaft and forced it out of his hand. He struck the man in the side of the head with the shaft, and then spun it around to strike the man in the neck with the head of the spear. As the man reeled backwards with blood spurting from his neck, Mercer stabbed him in the intestines with his sword and then forced the blade upwards to rupture the man's vital organs. Mercer coldly walked away and let the man's body shut down. He quickly glanced around and realized that only two men were left, the man that had been hit by his comrade's sword and the man that he had struck in the face. Mercer wanted to interrogate one of them, and he decided that the man with the bloody nose had a better chance of living than the man with the stab wound. Mercer walked over to the more injured man, sheathed his sword, and placed his boot on the man's throat. Mercer looked the Grimleal agent in the eye the entire time as he pressed downwards and crushed the man's neck. He waited until he was sure the man was dead before walking towards the remaining Grimleal agent. Mercer allowed the man to rise to his feet only to strike him in the face with the hilt of his sword again when he tried to reach for his tome. The man fell to the ground and desperately put his arm into the air.

"No more! No more! Please!"

Mercer pointed his sword at the man. "No more bullying. No more murdering children in the streets. No more oppression. I'm going to kill every one of you!"

"Please! No!"

"But I'm tired of killing henchmen." Mercer brought the tip of his sword to the man's neck. "Tell me where your boss is. Tell me where Courtney is right now, and you'll live a little longer."

* * *

"So you're saying everyone is gone but you? He done up and killed everyone else?"

The one Grimleal agent that Mercer had spared nodded vigorously at his leader. "Everyone! All of your lieutenants and agents! I'm the only one left! The old man didn't even clean his sword! It was still covered in blood! He's a damn monster!" Courtney hardly reacted to his agent's terrified description. He rested his hand on his cheek and gave the survivor a disinterested look.

"So, what, he just let you go? You're acting like he's a spirit out of hell come to kill us all, yet he just let you go out of the kindness of his heart?"

The man started trembling. "He wanted me to tell you that he was coming, and he didn't let me go unharmed." The man held out both of his hands. They were wrapped in bloody bandages, but it was obvious the man was now missing all ten of his fingers. "He said he never wanted me to use magic again."

Courtney's only response was to break out laughing. "S-So he cut off your f-fingers!" He giggled. "That's hilarious! I like this old bastard! He's got a sense of humor! Why couldn't he be on our side?"

The man decided to pretend that his leader had been more sympathetic. "That's the thing, boss. He would never be on our side. The legends are true." The man looked Courtney right in the eye. "The throneless prince still lives. He's been living right under our noses for years!"

"You're telling me Chrom is still alive? You're saying that he's coming to kill me then?"

"He's already here." Courtney and the Grimleal agent turned to see who had spoken. They found Mercer standing in front of the doorway leading to Courtney's chamber. The man Mercer had spared earlier broke and fled. Mercer paid him no mind. Courtney sat up in his chair and eyed the man. His lieutenant hadn't been lying. Mercer was holding a sword that appeared to be the Falchion, and it was coated in blood. Mercer's own clothing had light blood spatters on them. Courtney's gaze was drawn to the Mark of Naga on his right shoulder, and he also noticed the strands of dark blue in his otherwise gray hair. Courtney's eyes widened as he realized other similarities. The man left his right arm bare, covering it only with bandages. He wore a single metal shoulder plate. He also wore dark blue clothing. Courtney grinned from ear to ear.

"So the legends are true! You're still alive! Speak of the shadow dragon, we were just talking about you!" Courtney rose from his seat. "You know I heard the legends that you'd survived, but I never believed them. I always thought that Chrom loved the Shepherds too much to abandon them. He'd never run away. He'd go down fighting with them. I guess I was wrong. I guess you didn't want to stay with the men and women under you until the end." Courtney started to slowly approach Mercer. "Look how pathetic you've become. Blue bloods like you used to be in charge, but now rednecks like me are in power. Funny how things worked out."

"Why?" Mercer almost whispered, a subtle menace in his voice.

"Why? Why what?"

"Why did you kill Conrad and his little girl?"

Courtney shrugged. "Because I can?" He said as if the answer were completely obvious. In fact he acted like he was surprised Mercer didn't know. "Because I can get away with it. Because I'm the strongest man they is around these parts. I do what I want."

Mercer tightened his grip on the Falchion. "Well it's over now. Your reign ends here." Mercer's voice was almost completely flat, but hidden underneath his short and direct speech was a tranquil fury. Mercer was past reason. He was past any kind of negotiation or debate. He was going to kill Courtney and then go home. The second Courtney let his guard down, Mercer would butcher him like a feral animal and then go back to his quiet homestead. In Mercer's mind this was no war. It was simple punishment.

Courtney was a bit brighter than his agents, however. He knew what Mercer was trying to do. Instead the Grimleal landlord decided to take the opportunity to provoke Mercer into a blind rage. In that state he would make mistakes. "Younger members of the Grimleal like me weren't around when the Shepherds fell, but the older members passed down stories. They told us all about how each Shepherd died. Would you like to hear the stories? Maybe you could tell me how accurate they are."

Mercer's eye twitched uncontrollably.

"My favorite story about how the Shepherds died is Lucina's. I like it because she was just so damn tough. They say she took a lot of punishment before going down." Courtney snickered. "But in the end I guess she found it hard to keep fighting without any arms."

Mercer had to stop himself from yelling out.

"Another good one is Robin's. Robin couldn't die because they needed him to become the Hierophant, but that doesn't mean they couldn't incapacitate him. How'd they get him?" Courtney pretended that he couldn't remember. He put his hand on his chin. "Hmm oh that's right! They gouged out his eyes! It's not like he needed them as the Hierophant. Grima has eyes to spare."

The tip of the Falchion shook wildly as Mercer struggled to contain his rage. He was shaking with hatred of Courtney. It felt like his blood was going to boil right out of his skin.

"My least favorite story is Lissa's. Her death was just so violent." Courtney smiled even wider. "I like to think of myself as a strong man, but my stomach churns every time I hear how she died."

Mercer was now breathing like he'd sprinted all the way from his home. He desperately tried to keep his head, but his rage was now blinding. Killing Courtney's men and women hadn't eased Mercer's hatred. It only fueled it. It was boiling over now, and only Courtney's death could stop it. Mercer tried to himself that he was old and more vulnerable than he used to be. He tried to tell himself to wait for Courtney to leave an opening for him to exploit. He tried to tell himself that Courtney wanted him to just run forward and get himself killed. Nothing was working.

"Would you like to know what happened to the bodies? Let's just say there are parts of your family members circulating around the black market."

Mercer finally broke. "I'LL KILL YOOUUAARRGGG!" Mercer sprung forward and threw himself at Courtney. His righteous vengeance ended as soon as it began. Courtney quickly drew a Nosferatu tome and blasted Mercer with a bright flash of magical energy. Mercer fell to his knees in agony as the energy burned his flesh and drained his very life force. Mercer hadn't taken a magical blast like that in years, and he had completely lost his resistance to it. He vomited and convulsed as his body struggled to compensate for the sudden loss of energy. It was almost like he was going into shock, but it was his very life force rather than blood that Mercer's body had suddenly lost. He struggled just to look up.

"Oh come on, old man! Give me a good fight before you die! It's been years since I had someone cool to kill. I miss having real fights. Picking on peasants just isn't the same. There ain't no good warriors in the world no more. You're all I got, you pathetic old bastard. Get up and give me a good fight!" Mercer tried to rise to his feet. The pain was too much for him to handle, and he collapsed to his knees. Courtney shook his head. "Maybe you just need more encouragement. I could talk more about your dead friends, but I think I'd rather talk about your living ones."

"W-What?" Mercer groaned.

"There isn't a damn thing that goes on around here with me knowing it. My reach is intangible, but my grip is unbreakable. I know Tiki visits these parts regularly. We've known for years. We can't catch her though. She moves around often. We couldn't catch her unless we could know exactly where she'd be." Courtney gave an unnerving smile. "But now we know why she comes here! It's you, Chrom! She comes to see you! Once I kill you, I'll use you to lure her out. We'll capture her, and Gangrel will reward us greatly."

"N-No."

"And don't think it will end with her. We know about your little army, Chrom. We know about that scantily clad mage relative of yours, and her pink haired mercenary friend. Don't think they'll get away from me. I'll bring them back in chains right where you're kneeling, and we're going to have a hell of a time!"

"NO!" Mercer shot up. Courtney blasted him with another attack from his tome, but Mercer used the Falchion to absorb most of the energy. The attack was still painful, but Mercer started to regain his resistance. The familiar sting of magical energy was now something that he was capable of withstanding. The pain caused his mind to flashback to when he had taken countless magical attacks as a younger man. Mercer slowly began to regain resolve he hadn't had in decades. Mercer stood up straighter and clutched his sword more tightly. For an instant he was a young man again. Courtney only smiled even wider.

"Yes! Get up, old man! Give me a good fight!" Courtney wielded his tome in one hand, and he drew a levin sword with the other. Lightning cracked and arced off the blade, and dust and small particles began to levitate around Courtney as magical energy surged through him. "Show me what you would have done to people like me thirty years ago!" Both Mercer and Courtney roared and charged at each other.

* * *

It was a quiet morning in Mercer's town when Mercer finally made his way back home. Mercer's clothing was ripped and torn, but also burned, and he was absolutely coated with dried blood. His skin was covered in cuts and gashes, and he also had scorch marks all over him. Patches of his hair had apparently been ripped out, and his arms had electrical burns on them. Mercer had also covered the Mark of Naga on his shoulder with bandages again.

Nobody in town paid much attention to Mercer as he made his way back to the town square. There he saw something that he had dreaded to find, though deep down he knew they would still be there. Conrad and his daughter were still lying in the square. At this point the corpses were badly decomposed. The bodies were bloated and muscle and bone were visible. Maggots writhed around, gorging themselves on decaying flesh, and it was clear that birds and mammals had also been picking on the bodies at night. The stench was excruciating, but the townspeople paid no mind to them. They simply gave them a wide berth and went about their day. Everyone in the square did stop and stare at Mercer when he walked over to the bodies, however. He walked up to the body of Conrad's young daughter and knelt beside her. Mercer completely ignored the decomposition and picked up her corpse. Even as maggots fell into his clothing, Mercer cradled the body as if the girl were sleeping and he was trying not to wake her up. He stood up and started to walk away. At this point everyone in the square was staring nervously at Mercer. Donald the bartender emerged from the crowd and approached him.

"I told you they'd kill anyone who buried them!"

"We don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because there's nobody left to kill us." Mercer brushed by Donald and slowly made his way to the town's local cemetery. Mercer walked almost a kilometer to his destination, the girl's body in his arms the entire time. Mercer didn't stop until he was at the very outskirts of the cemetery. He gently placed the girl on the ground and retrieved a shovel. By himself he started digging into the earth. Mercer didn't stop digging until he heard a wagon coming up from behind him. He turned to find the townspeople bringing Conrad's body to the cemetery. They smiled at him, and he gave a solemn smile back. Together Mercer and the townspeople dug two graves for Conrad and his daughter. They made makeshift crosses from wood to mark the graves, and then the gathered townspeople had an impromptu funeral for the two. Nobody had much to say, so Mercer stepped in front of the graves and addressed the crowd.

"I didn't know Conrad and his little girl very well. I only talked to him once, and I'd only seen him a few times before that. He was a stupid kid. He was just a dumb, stupid kid." The townspeople glanced at each other as they listened to Mercer seemingly insult the dead. "But that's normal. He was a young man. He had girls on the mind and not much else. His daughter seemed to want her father's attention more than anything. She was a little girl. That's normal. They were two normal people, and they deserved a normal life. Life's not fair though." Mercer took a deep breath. "People often say that life isn't fair. They're right. It isn't. When people say that though, they're usually defending their horrible actions. It wasn't life that killed Conrad and his little girl. It was the Grimleal." Mercer paused and collected himself. "The world has been dying ever since Grima took over. For all the evil that the Fell Dragon does though, Grima didn't kill Conrad and his little girl. It was the Grimleal. The Grimleal did this because they could. They did it because they thought they could get away with it. For all the horrible things that exist in the world, we can never forget that human evil is always present. Human evil and depravity killed Conrad and his little girl." Mercer turned to the two graves. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that Conrad and his daughter were two normal people. In a better world they would have lived normal lives. Our world is dominated by human evil though. It's just not compatible with people like them anymore. Conrad and his daughter deserved so much more than what this world gave them." Mercer turned back to the crowd. "I didn't know Conrad and his daughter very well, but I will never forget them. To me they will always symbolize the normalcy that this world isn't compatible with anymore. To me they will always symbolize the human evil that will always exist, and this new world order allows it to reign without limitations. People like them will continue to suffer if we forget that. I will never forget that it is the evil done by men and women that has destroyed the world the most."

Mercer was the last to leave the funeral. He made his way back to his house, stepped inside, and slumped down in a chair. He let out a loud moan as he finally realized just how many injuries he'd taken in the several days he spent hunting the Grimleal. Mercer closed his eyes and let his body pass into unconsciousness. When he awoke, he found a familiar pink haired face staring at him. "Aww, he's so cute when he sleeps! Too bad he has to wake up and go back to his old grumpy self."

"Gaah!" Mercer fell out of his chair and looked up to see Ophelia, Soleil, and Tiki in his living room. Tiki held out an elixir.

"Chrom you didn't?!" She asked nervously. Mercer took the elixir and drank. Immediately he felt much better. Now he felt old, tired, and half-dead instead of old, tired, half-dead, and sore.

"I did. All of them. This chapter is finished."

Soleil whistled. "Remind me not to get him mad!" Her smiled faded. "I hate to ruin your righteous vengeance, but this isn't over. They'll send a new landlord. They'll send Enforcers. They'll come for this town."

Mercer sat back down. "Then I'll deal with them."

Tiki looked at Mercer sadly as she realized what he was getting at. "So you'll just keep fighting them until you die."

"Yep."

"This is going to be a form of suicide then?"

Mercer nodded. "Death in battle would be honorable. I won't be dishonoring the Shepherds this way."

"You can't do this, Chrom! You can't just give up!"

Ophelia shook her head, refusing to listen to what she was hearing. "Come on, Mercer! You can't do this! We need you! You said you wouldn't fight the Grimleal, but you just did! You don't have to throw your life away! Fight them with us!"

"If I follow you people, I will be throwing my life away."

"What about the Falchion, Chrom!" Tiki exclaimed. "Will you just let it fall into their hands?!"

Mercer shrugged. "I don't have my baby girl anymore. There's no one to inherit it from me anymore. There's no one to pass on the Hero King's blood. I'll just use it to take as many of them as I can with me before I die."

Ophelia looked hurt. "What… what about me?"

Mercer was apathetic. "Just wait for some hero to come along and fix everything. That's what Tiki believes anyways. Some hero will just appear and save the world just like in the legends."

Tiki stepped closer to Mercer. "A hero has come along."

"Please, Mercer!" Ophelia pleaded. "The world still needs you."

Mercer just stood up and shook his head. "The world is dead, girl. Just let yourself die with it. It'll be easier this way." Mercer tried to walk into his bedroom, but Soleil and Ophelia sprinted in front of him. Mercer turned to Tiki. "Make them move!"

"They really want to help the world, Chrom. They won't take no for an answer."

Ophelia dropped to her knees and put her hands together. "Please help us! I'm not asking you to defeat the Grimleal or train me with the Falchion right now! I just need your help with another problem."

"You'll ask me eventually."

"It's Caeldori. Remember how we told you about her? We're going to go get her, and we just want to make sure we can handle any Grimleal agents that we come across. That's all!"

Mercer thought about it. "So you just want to save another one of your friends?"

"We shouldn't even need to save her. She should be fine. I just want to make sure. Please! That's all I'm asking!"

Mercer sighed. He thought about Courtney and the Grimleal agents. He remembered their taunting. He thought about what they might do to a young woman they suspected of resisting their rule. He couldn't shake the thoughts from his head. "Alright, alright." Mercer looked down at his Falchion. "Just let me clean this thing off first."


	4. The Admirers

Mercer, Soleil, and Ophelia didn't leave to find Caeldori immediately. Mercer stayed at his house for about a week and a half to heal from his injuries. Ophelia explained that Caeldori was left at a nearby town to make sure Tiki had somewhere safe to go when she moved around. Tiki travelled back and forth in the time that Mercer spent recovering and brought Mercer supplies before leaving to find Caeldori again. The group would follow when Mercer had recovered.

Mercer went into his room, took off his work shirt, and carefully inspected himself in the mirror. Mercer's body was very toned and muscular. He kept himself in good shape for the manual labor he did to make a living. In fact, he might have been stronger than he was as a younger man, though he definitely had less speed, agility, and energy. Age was taking its toll on Mercer, however. His skin was beginning to sag. Where he wasn't muscular, he was sunken and degenerating.

The medicine that Tiki had brought back helped Mercer heal from most of his flesh wounds, but some of them had scarred. The electrical burns on Mercer's arms hadn't completely healed yet, and were a sickly yellow color from the subdermal damage. Mercer carefully ran his fingers through his hair. He had to keep it combed in very specific ways to cover up the patches that Courtney had torn out in their last bitter grapple. Mercer sighed as he realized just how little of his hair was still blue, and it was then that he noticed Soleil's reflection smiling at him in the mirror. He turned to see her staring.

"Woah, Mercer! Nice abs! You look pretty good for a guy in his seventies!"

"I'm in my fifties."

Soleil's expression became more worried. "Oh. I mean, your body is still hanging in there, but otherwise you don't look great for a guy in his fifties."

"Well thanks, Soleil. I feel great about myself now. Why are you standing there anyways? Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock?"

"Well I grew up in a small hut with no door so… no. I just wanted to know when we'd leave. I'm getting bored sitting around the house all day!"

"Why don't you find something to do in the town?"

"I tried but it's too depressing. Everyone's worried about the Grimleal coming to drag everyone away to The Rockpile, never to be seen again. No fine maidens have the time for me. Thanks for stepping on my game, Mercer."

"We'll go later today okay? We'll head into town to pick up some supplies for the trip, and then we'll head out to find Caeldori. Where was she again?"

"Southtown. It's about fifty kilometers from here."

Mercer paused. "I first met Robin in a field near Southtown."

Soleil looked at Mercer sadly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's fine. Just let me get dressed."

"Alright."

Mercer shot Soleil an annoyed glance. "Let me get dressed _alone_."

"Alright, alright."

Mercer put on the rest of his clothing. His poncho was too badly burned to be used anymore, and his homemade shoulder plate was destroyed in the fight with Courtney. The metal plates had been fused together, and Mercer was lucky it hadn't welded to his arm. The burn mark it left on his shoulder was one of his scars from the battle. Otherwise Mercer's outfit was the same as before. Mercer then opened the door to find Ophelia frantically running at him. "Mercer! You're going to want to see this!"

"What is it?"

"There's a man outside your house! He wants to see you! I tried to ask him why he's here, but he only wants to see you!"

"What's strange about it?"

"Y-you're just going to need to see this!"

The man standing outside of Mercer's house was like something out of one of his nightmares. The man was wearing an exact replica of Lucina's outfit. He was much taller than she had been and was thin and lanky. His clothing also seemed to be made for a woman, so he barely fit in his outfit. Sheathed at the man's side was an estoc customized to look like the Falchion, though there were a number of errors. The man wasn't just dressing up like Lucina, he was dressing up like Lucina in her "Marth" disguise. His blue hair was tied short like Lucina's was, though it was clear that it wasn't his real hair. The man had dark eyebrows and dark whispers of a goatee that he hadn't completely shaven off. The man also wore an exact copy of Lucina's butterfly mask. "Are you Mercer?" The man asked. He seemed to be trying to sound like a woman, but at the same time he was trying to sound gruff and intimidating. The result was like something that would come out of a teenager enduring voice cracks.

"Yes?"

"I am the PRINCESS of TIME! I am a crusader for Naga! I am a descendant of the Hero King himself! I am the warrior from a doomed future! I am Lucina the elder!"

Mercer's head was flooded with so many emotions that he could do little else but stare at the strange man dressed in the attire of his long since slain daughter. "It is too early in the day for this crap."

"I brought Mercer! What do you want?! Why are you here?" Ophelia asked the man.

"I must speak with Mercer! I wish to be known to him! Notice me, Mercer!"

Mercer walked off his porch and approached the strange man. Ophelia reached out her hand and tried to silently urge him to be careful, but Mercer ignored her. Mercer walked up to the man. "What… the hell… _is this_?"

"I must speak with you. I know that you killed Courtney. Your actions have attracted the attention of people who could use your help."

"Why are you dressed like that?" Mercer asked in a flat tone.

"I'll explain later. There are people who need to see you."

"WHY ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE THAT?!" Mercer grabbed "Lucina" by the collar and pulled the man to him. Mercer's face was almost deformed with a fury he hadn't felt since he fought Courtney. Mercer couldn't see "Lucina's" expression through the mask, but his quivering lip gave away his fear.

"B-because I am Lucina? The daughter of Chrom? I've been sent to this timeline to defeat Grima?" The man responded in a squeaky voice. Mercer shoved "Lucina" backwards and then deprived the man of his butterfly mask and his blue wig in one quick swipe of his hand. The man's real hair was black and greasy, and his face was sunken and acne ridden. He couldn't have been more than twenty years old. The man quickly steadied himself and prepared to fight back, but then he suddenly froze. Very slowly, as if he were afraid of what he might find, he put his hands to his face. A terrified look gripped his face when he touched the bare skin around his eyes. "My… my face."

"What?" Mercer asked.

"Give me back my faaaace!" The man charged at Mercer. Mercer simply put his hand on the young man's head and held him back as he swung his arms around. " _GIVE ME BACK MY_ _**FAAAAAAACE**_!"

"Shut up!" Mercer shoved the man to the ground. He looked up at Mercer with a mixture of hatred and fear.

"I'm nothing without that mask! That mask makes me Lucina! I need that mask!"

"You're nothing like Lucina!"

"How do you know?!"

"Three things. One, Lucina didn't call herself 'Lucina' while she was disguised. That would have defeated the point of the disguise. Two, Lucina wore this mask to cover up the Mark of Naga on her eye. She didn't wear it because she had an obsession with it. She didn't consider it to be her 'face'. Three, you're a man!"

"So? Lucina was a woman that pretended to be a man. Why can't I be a man that pretends to be a woman that pretended to be a man?!"

"What?!"

"Who are you to tell me what she was like anyways? You didn't know her!"

"You're kidding me?! You heard about my attack on Courtney and his men, but you didn't hear about who I am?"

"What are you talking about?!" Had Mercer been more level headed, he might have seen that he had nothing to gain from showing this strange man who he was. Mercer was irritated by the man's obsession with his daughter and his strange interpretation of her, however, and in that moment he would have done anything just to prove the man wrong. Mercer tore off his bandages on his right shoulder, revealing his own Mark of Naga. The man's eyes widened. Mercer knew that the man's obsession with Lucina would surely mean he would have enough knowledge of the other Shepherds to know the significance of the brand. "You're… you're him! You're Lucina's father! You still live!"

"I'm going to ask you one time why you're acting like my dead daughter." Mercer snarled. "You'd better think of your answer carefully."

The man rose to his feet. "Because I must follow in her legacy. I will purge this world of the human trash that now infects it, just as she would do if she were still alive."

"What?"

"This world has been corrupted by the decadent human filth who lord over the rest of humanity. Lucina wouldn't stand for it! She would fight to slay those who are responsible for the evils of the world! This planet is a gutter and it must flow with the blood of the murderers, thieves, rapists, bandits, tyrants, conquerors, and warlords slain by the righteous. Only when their blood flows over the soil will it be healed. Only when the dead heart of this world is filled with the blood of the worst of our cruel and savage race will it beat again! Naga willed it, and Lucina was her holy champion! Her divine crusader! Her hero of light and shadow! A great warrior to burn a path of radiance into the DIRT and DUNG that this world has become! Conquest of evil was her birthright! She destroyed time itself to come to our timeline and purge evil from the world!" The man was out of breath, and he had to take a break to collect himself. "She was cut down before she could do this though, so I must follow in her legacy! I will wreak punishment and justice to the men and women who have broken our world in her name! I will cleanse this world of their heresy, sedition, and evil!"

The man was so unnerving that Mercer had to take several steps back to feel comfortable. "What?! You're making my daughter sound like some kind of crazed vigilante!"

"She was a vigilante! She didn't wait around for other people to solve problems. She took things into her own hands. That's why she didn't meet up with the other second generation Shepherds or join the Shepherds with you when she arrived in our timeline. That's why she became Basilio's champion. That's why she worked on her own to save Emmeryn. That's why she tried to kill Robin. She was taking things into her own hands! If that's not vigilantism than what is?!"

"She wasn't a murderer obsessed with vengeance!"

"Not vengeance. Punishment and justice. Vengeance is an emotional response. It's nothing more than an eye for an eye. Punishment is rectifying erroneous behavior through force. Justice is when good triumphs over evil and the unjust through force. Lucina fought for justice and punished the unjust. That is why she was a hero! She's what this world needs, but she's not around anymore. I'm her now!"

Mercer was rapidly running out of patience for this strange man. "What's your real name?"

"Lucina."

Mercer got so close to the man that their faces were almost touching. He looked at him as if he were trying to bore a hole in his skull with his eyes. " _What is your real name_?" Mercer asked very quietly. He didn't raise his voice, but it was clear that he was a hair away from exploding. The man's determination left him.

"L… l… Keith. It's Keith."

"Why are you even here, _Keith_?"

"I want to recruit you. After I heard about your rampage against the Grimleal, I suspected that you could help me. Now that I know who you are, I know you can help me! Join me and my war against the Grimleal! We were destined to be together!"

Mercer began to walk towards Keith, and he didn't stop even as Keith began to nervously back away. "Listen Keith, I'm going to say this once. Don't breathe another word about my dead daughter, _and get off my land_."

"I carry the legacy of your daughter in my heart. You cannot take that from me! I have become her!"

Mercer responded by striking Keith in the head. A cracking noise could be heard, and Keith's body crumpled to the ground. He didn't move anymore. Mercer turned and stormed back to his house. Ophelia looked at him fearfully as he walked by. "W-why did you attack him?! He didn't do anything wrong!"

"His whole life is wrong."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't care." Mercer kicked the door to his house open. "Come on! Let's finish getting ready and head to town for some supplies. I don't think my house is very private any more, and I don't want to see who else shows up."

* * *

Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil went into the town market to pick up supplies for the trip. Mercer had wanted to buy the supplies quickly and leave as soon as possible, so he wasn't pleased to find that Ophelia and Soleil had helped themselves to lunch from street vendors. "I thought we were trying to leave as soon as possible?!" He asked. He intended for his voice to be threatening, but Soleil and Ophelia had gotten used to him. To them it came across as nagging.

"Oh come on!" Soleil said with a mouthful of food. "We don't have to leave on an empty stomach!" She tapped on an empty seat next to her at the table she and Ophelia were sitting at. "We got you something. Come on, sit with us."

Mercer sat down. "We really… I just want to… oh that does smell good." Mercer took a bite from some kind of meat in his food. It was very spicy, and tasted like a cross between chicken and fish. "Oh! What is that?"

"It's alligator."

"You're kidding?! It's good!"

"You don't spend much on yourself do you, Mercer? You don't buy yourself things you want very often do you?"

"I always save up for rent. You don't want to miss a rent payment."

"Well sit with us for now. Enjoy the food. We can share stories."

"I don't want to share any stories."

"Well then listen to some of ours."

"You two have some good stories?"

"Sure!" Ophelia responded. "We have some great stories!"

"We have stories about all kinds of things." Soleil's eyes lit up as she realized the opportunity to tell a story that probably wouldn't come up otherwise. "One time we switched bodies."

Mercer paused, looking at Soleil to see if she was serious. "You switched bodies?! H-how is that possible?"

Ophelia smiled proudly. "No arcane knowledge is beyond the chosen heroine!" Ophelia's smile abated as she remembered the story. "But… it didn't go as I planned."

"What happened?"

Soleil put a bigger, sillier grin on her face than usual and held her chin up high. Ophelia buried her face in her hands. "Can I tell it?! Can I?!" Soleil asked enthusiastically.

Ophelia groaned. "Just tell it quickly."

Soleil turned to Mercer, barely able to contain her excitement. "Ophelia and I weren't always as close as we are now. When we first set out on our journeys together, I tried to spend a lot of one on one time with her. For some reason though, she didn't want to spend any quality time with me."

"You were harassing me! You were always stalking me! I never got any privacy!"

"If you didn't want me to stalk you then you shouldn't have hidden from me!" Soleil said with a disturbing innocence. "Anyways, we were walking through Southtown at the time. I wanted to take her to this lovely cafe where they had real tea. Real tea! Do you know how rare that stuff is anymore? Ophelia didn't want to go. She responded to my kindness by casting a body switching spell on me!"

"Huh?!"

"Just like that I was in Ophelia's body, and she was in mine!"

"H-how?!" Mercer turned to Ophelia and she smiled sheepishly.

"It was nothing really. I knew it wouldn't hurt her."

"That sounds incredibly dangerous! What if something had gone wrong?! What if you couldn't reverse the spell?!"

"But the stars said it would work perfectly." Ophelia responded. She knew how weak her reason was, and her voice rose in pitch as she spoke until she was barely audible. Ophelia's embarrassment only made Soleil more excited.

"Aw come on, Mercer. Don't yell at her. Not before I get to the good part!"

From Soleil's eagerness, Mercer knew something obscene was coming up. "And what is this good part?" He asked nervously.

"Well her spell worked perfectly! I was her, and she was me! I was ecstatic!"

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have to chase her anymore if I was her! The first thing I did was to go buy a small mirror. Then I went back to my nice, quiet, private tent."

"Why would you… Soleil! That's horrible! That's harassment!"

"No it wasn't! I was doing it to _myself_!"

"Gods!"

Mercer and Ophelia's shared embarrassment only made Soleil happier. "You wouldn't have done the same thing?"

"N-no! I was taught more respect than that!"

"No one respects women more than I do! Respect is just a synonym for love right?"

"I can't… I don't even want to think about it!"

"Well no one asked you to think about it. You're doing that all by yourself." Soleil teased. Mercer looked at Ophelia.

"Why would you do that anyways? What did you have to gain?"

"I just wanted her to knock it off! I thought it would teach her a lesson and that she'd beg me to reverse the spell!" Ophelia shook her head as Soleil laughed. "I ended up having to chase her around to get her into range so that I could reverse the spell and get my body back."

"Too bad I'm in such good shape." Soleil interjected. "If I could've gotten away from my own body, I'd have had a lot more fun."

"I see now that casting that spell on you was wrong, but you didn't have to be such a dunderhead about it! You made me really upset, Soleil!"

"What I do with my own body is none of your business!" Soleil joked.

For a few seconds Mercer just glanced between the two in disbelief. Then he started to chuckle. His laughter was almost uncontrollable, and he had to steel himself just to keep it from becoming a giggle. Soleil and Ophelia weren't sure what to make of it. Parts of them were happy to see Mercer show some more humanity, but other parts of them were disturbed by the sudden outburst from a man that had previously been completely serious. "What's uh… what's got you so excited, Mercer?" Soleil asked him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. That story was just so ridiculous!"

"Well we have our share of fun stories. Trying to save the world from Grima is pretty stressful. We have to have fun where we can."

A tear fell down Mercer's cheek as countless memories came back to him. "Yeah. I understand that." Mercer looked over at the empty seat beside Ophelia. "Do you have any stories about Caeldori? I still don't know much about her."

Soleil rolled her eyes. "Nothing like that story. Caeldori's a real stick in the mud. She's always little miss perfect. She excels at everything she does. Everyone calls her a genius. You can't imagine what that's like."

Mercer thought about the woman Caeldori derived her name from. "Oh I think I can imagine."

Soleil suddenly snorted. "There is, there is this one story though! Turns out she loosens up a bit if she has too much to drink. We were coming back from the bar when we looked up and saw Tiki flying overhead in her dragon form. Caeldori looks up and says 'Why do I have to ride a Pegasus? Why can't I ride a _dragon_ into battle!' When Tiki landed near us, Caeldori runs up to her and tries to climb onto her back." Ophelia smiled as she began to remember the story. Soleil had to keep herself from laughing. "She must have caught Tiki in a bad mood because Tiki bucks her off! She goes flying and slams into a building. It looked bad. We ran up to her, and Tiki reverted to her human form and ran up to her. We all shout 'Caeldori, are you okay?' She shoots up and shouts 'That was awesome!' Then she, she chased Tiki around for the next several minutes shouting 'Do it again! Do it again!'" Ophelia started laughing, and Soleil pounded her fist on the table. "You, you just had to be there!"

Mercer couldn't help but smile himself. The casual tone of the moment was ruined by an ominous sight. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a man looking right at the three. Mercer occasionally looked away for a few seconds before glancing back to the man to see if he was actually staring at them. The man was definitely looking right at Mercer. Soleil tapped on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"There's a man staring right at us." A man in a black duster and a wide brimmed hat was slowly making his way towards the three. He stopped at the closest table to Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil and took off his hat. The Mark of Grima was tattooed right on the man's forehead. He set his hat down on the table and quickly reached for something slung on his back. Mercer tensed up. The man froze when Mercer tensed up and gave him a cheeky grin. He reached for the object on his back more slowly this time, never once looking away from Mercer. Moving as sluggishly as he possibly could, the man slowly took out what was on his back until Mercer could see that it was just a case for a string instrument. The man watched Mercer as he sighed in relief and rolled his eyes, and only then did the man look away and move at a normal pace. Mercer looked back down at his food. "Never mind. It's just some kind of street performer."

Soleil turned to look at him. "Does the town have a lot of street performers?"

"No."

Mercer glanced back to the man. He took out a string instrument called a gittern and began to tune it. Several townspeople in the market turned to stare at the man as he plucked a few strings, but he acted like he was alone. Mercer rolled his eyes again and went back to his food, but then the man started to play a few chords from his gittern. He looked up to the townspeople. "Now this here is a song I wrote about the princess of time." He turned to look at Mercer. "I hope everyone here likes it." The man began to sing, his pace quick and upbeat.

"There once was a woman to warriors born

She was thin and toned with navy blue hair

She was descended from heroes and kings

The proof was right there in her stare,

She was growin' up when everything was dyin'

But she didn't think it was too late to save the world

All she had to do was turn back time

Until long before she was even a girl,

As she unraveled the threads of time

The world itself began to fall away

But she just didn't seem to give a damn oh!

Not when there was a dragon to slay,

Now there are two princesses

Both very much apart in years

The first has gone somewhere else now

The last is still… right here"

The man turned to look at Mercer again, who was now shaking with frustration. He gave him a slippery grin and then looked back to the confused crowd. "And here's another one. This one's about her father." The man began to sing again, but this time he started out very slow. At first his singing was almost like normal speech, but the song gradually got more lively. His voice started as low and deep, but it became higher pitched with each verse. He played the gittern faster and faster as the song went on until his fingers were almost a blur.

"Let's ensure the salvation of Ylisse,

Let's ensure the maintenance of its laws,

Should despotism claim the other lands,

It will surely never breach our walls, oh!

When that prince… comes around"

The man turned to look right at Mercer. His eyes never darted to look at Ophelia or Soleil. He only looked at Mercer.

"Let every mortal pay homage

To the man that brings down would be kings

Conquerors, cults, bandits, they don't mean a thing!

Tyrants, tremble! You will atone for your crimes!

When that prince… comes around"

Mercer felt the instinct to reach for his Falchion, but there wasn't any real reason to attack the man. The man looked Mercer dead in the eyes as he sang, his gaze never breaking, and completely ignored everyone else in the market. Soleil put her hand on Mercer's shoulder to calm him.

"Those who are righteous will be righteous still

But they who are unjust will have broken wills

Those who think they can rape, steal, and kill

Will find themselves running for the nearest hill oh!

When that prince… comes around,

They say the Shepherds will come to purge the land

Of all those that serve the Fell Dragon's hand

But they might as well be pounding sand!

They just don't seem to understand

They can't do a gods-damned thing! Oh not before that prince… comes around!"

The man got up from his seat and walked over to Mercer. He didn't stop until he was leaning against Ophelia's chair, getting uncomfortably close to her. Soleil reached for her own sword, but the man afforded her none of his attention.

"Now the Fell Dragon come to change the world

People are screaming, yelling, and cryin'

Some folks are born and some are dyin'

But don't be lookin' for the hero of my writin'

Because this time, oh!"

The man finally stopped singing. He spoke in a normal voice. "This time that prince… won't be comin' around." The man continued to ignore Ophelia and Soleil and looked right at Mercer. He seemed to revel in the awkwardness of the situation. Mercer knew that nothing he could say would make things any less weird, but he couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Do we know you?"

"No. My name's Theresa." The man looked closely at Mercer and smiled when Mercer reacted with confusion to his feminine name, like he knew exactly how Mercer would react. In fact the man reacted to everything Mercer did with a sense of satisfaction, as if he knew everything Mercer would do.

"H-hello there, Theresa." Ophelia said nervously. Theresa didn't even look at her. His only response was to take a sip of her drink as if she wasn't even there.

"I know you. I know _exactly_ who you are. Did you like my song?"

Mercer took a few seconds to collect himself. "It was… unique."

"I wrote it for you." Theresa got up and slowly put his gittern back in his case, placed his hat back on his head, and began to walk out of the market. Before he left, he turned to Mercer one last time. "I'm going to sing it at your funeral." Theresa giggled, his voice as high pitched as Soleil's for a horrible few seconds, and then left the market.

"What was that?!" Soleil asked as she glanced between Mercer and Ophelia, making sure they had seen the same thing she did.

"Let's just get out of this town already." Mercer responded. "I'm tired of the people it keeps throwing at me."


	5. The Badlands

_Deep within the royal palace in Ylisstol, an attendant carrying a sleeping infant walked towards a heavily armored man. The man was gruff and uninviting. He had short curly blue hair and a frazzled blue beard, and his face was permeated with deep wrinkles that made him look much older than he really was. He wore a very serious and concerned expression that his face seemed to be made for. Even without the wrinkles, the man's default expression was cold and intimidating. The Mark of Naga, a birthmark that proved the man's ancestry, was on his right cheek. The man's attire was elaborately decorated gold and blue plate armor, and a stark white cape flowed behind the man. The Falchion was sheathed at his side. The attendant gave the man a small bow when he reached him and presented him with the infant in his hands._

 _"I have returned from the delivery room, Lord Caracalla. I have excellent news. Your wife has given birth to a healthy baby boy." The attendant carefully handed the newborn to his father. A warm smile appeared on the Exalt's face, yet even then he still looked serious. "There is one other thing, milord. Your wife asked, no she almost pleaded with me, to tell you that she thought of a few names for the child."_

 _Caracalla looked down on his newborn son. He smiled as he noticed the Mark of Naga on his right shoulder. "I do not care what that woman thinks." He responded. "I shall name the child." Caracalla looked contemplatively at the sleeping newborn in his arms. "Chrom. His name will be Chrom. He's beautiful. He's strong and healthy. He's much bigger than Emmeryn was when she was born." Caracalla held his newborn son close to his face and nuzzled him. "I'm your father. I'm going to make a better world for you to grow up in." Caracalla rocked his son back and forth. "There's a monster out there called Grima. It wants to destroy humanity, but I won't let that happen. I'm going to make sure you can grow up in a world without Grima, or Plegia, or the Grimleal. I will make Ylisse a safe place, and I'll do it for you, Chrom. I'm doing it for you and Emmeryn. I'll make sure you have a good future to grow up in." The Exalt glanced down at the Falchion sheathed at his side. "But should I fail, it will be your responsibility to take up my legacy. Someday you will take up the Falchion as your ancestors did. Your older sister in her childish belief that pacifism can fix the world refuses to touch it. You will have to wield it. You, not her, will be the one to carry on my work. The fate of Ylisse rests on your shoulders. You will need to be strong." Caracalla kissed his newborn son on the forehead. "There are people who criticize my war with Plegia. They don't understand how important my crusade is. Someday people will criticize you too. You will need to be strong. If we are weak now, then someday a Plegian king might walk down these halls."_

In the present day some fifty years later, an attendant once again made his way down the halls while carrying an infant. The attendant slowly made his way to Gangrel's throne room and gave the emperor a small bow when he reached the throne. Gangrel was once again wearing his "Shepherd Slayer" outfit. He was intently fiddling with the trophies on his head, trying to get Cordelia and Cherche's headbands to fit on his head while also messing with Maribelle's bows. The three pieces of clothing were badly deteriorated from thirty years of wear and tear. Gangrel didn't care. He would wear them until they crumbled into dust. The attendant had to loudly clear his throat to get the emperor's attention.

"Your highness, your wife asked—and when I say asked I mean that she thrusted her into my hands—that your young daughter spend the rest of the day with you. Your wife would like a break."

Gangrel rose from his throne and rolled his eyes. "That woman is three times younger than me and she can't handle a simple infant?! I handle thousands of people in my job! What was the point of marrying such a young woman if she has the stamina of an old wench?"

The attendant rolled his own eyes. "Oh of course, your highness. Your superiority over your very young wife is apparent to all."

"That's all I'm saying!" Gangrel descended from his throne and took his infant daughter from the attendant's arms. "Ah alright. She can spend the day with daddy." Gangrel playfully lifted his daughter into the air. "Yes you can, Emmeryn. Yes you can!"

Of all of Gangrel's eccentricities, his obsession with the late Exalt of Ylisse was easily one of the most disturbing to his attendant. The attendant hadn't known Gangrel before he became emperor, but he had heard that when he was just the King of Plegia he had no obsession with Emmeryn. This strange fascination began only after her death. It was the attendant's personal opinion that this obsession was born from guilt, but he would never tell Gangrel that. The emperor despised any attempt to analyze his actions. Naming his daughter after Emmeryn was only one way in which Gangrel's obsession manifested. The attendant cleared his throat again and regained his professional composure. "There was another matter to attend to, your highness."

"What now?" Gangrel groaned without turning away from his daughter.

The attendant took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how Gangrel would react to his news. "You know how you took Lucina's Parallel Falchion as a trophy after the Shepherds fell?"

"Of course?"

"Now you can complete the set."

Gangrel's eyes slowly fell on the attendant. "What?"

"The throneless prince still lives. He's been living as a scavenger in western Ylisse for years. Something happened and he single-handedly wiped out the entire Grimleal chapter in the area. There are only two survivors, one of Courtney's lieutenants and Courtney's personal assassin. They both confirm reports. Chrom is still alive."

Gangrel seemed to stare aimlessly into space. "My old friend." He said to no one in particular in a very disturbing tone. "My dear old friend. How long has it been since we've seen each other?" Gangrel held his daughter with one hand and drew the Parallel Falchion with the other. "Don't worry, Lucina." He said to the sword. "You'll be with your father soon."

"So… you want him dead?"

"Well I can't very much have him killing my landlords now can I?"

"It's convenient that you should think that, your highness. Theresa, Courtney's personal assassin, has requested permission to kill him. He wants revenge for Courtney's death."

"Very well. Tell him he can feel free to try."

The attendant seemed momentarily shocked. "Y-you're okay with that? You don't want to send Inquisitors or your personal Enforcers? This is the leader of the Shepherds we're talking about. Are you okay with a lowly assassin killing him?"

Gangrel shrugged. "Who cares. It doesn't matter how he dies. I only ask that his body be kept intact." Gangrel gave an unhinged smile. The attendant knew that he was rapidly reaching the point where Gangrel wouldn't hold a conversation anymore. "As long as I get my trophy!"

"Of course, your highness." The attendant bowed and quickly walked out as Gangrel descended into another laughing fit, holding his daughter the entire time.

* * *

Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil all crammed themselves onto Minerva's back and flew towards Southtown. It was a long and uncomfortably cramped trip, and Mercer had little to do besides look around at the land as they flew. What took nature millions of years to form, Grima had created in thirty years. The plains that had surrounded Southtown, the same plains where Chrom had met Robin so many years ago, were gone. In their place were vast stretches of dry terrain. These were the Ylissean Badlands. Grima's destruction of the soil caused the ground to be eroded away by wind and water. The ground was now covered by nothing but sand, shale, and dust. The land produced a vast color display ranging from dark red to black and blue. Canyons and ravines could be seen in the distance. The sight was beautiful, but it was also very tragic. This land had been fertile once. Now there wasn't a lifeform in sight. Thousands of people had likely been displaced when their farms failed, and the dust of the badlands was all that was left. Now there was no trace of anyone ever having lived in the area. In Mercer's mind it was cruel symbolism. He had first met Robin in the plains, and just as the plains were now gone, so too was Mercer's old life. The land was dying just as he was.

"They say the whole world will look like this soon." Mercer looked up to see Ophelia looking at him. "When Grima decides to wipe out humanity, this is how it will happen. It won't rely on the Grimleal or Risen. Not this time. It will just kill all the soil in the world. Plants will die out, and we'll all starve. It will be slow, painful, and foolproof. We won't be able to fight against it."

Mercer shrugged. "Grima hasn't wiped us out yet."

"It will though! That's why we have to fight now while we still have a chance!"

"Lucina was a teenager when she came back."

"Right?"

"When Lucina went back in time, humanity had been all but wiped out. By this time in her timeline, humanity would be gone. Grima decided to spare us this time. Don't ruin it."

Ophelia gave Mercer a smug smirk. "I see through that grumpy act. I know you too well now. I know you think you've given up on the world, but I know better. You still have your love for people. You're still the hero Tiki talks about at heart. You helped me save Soleil when you didn't know her. You're helping us find Caeldori when you don't know her. You were driven to pick up a sword again when Conrad died, and you barely knew him. You still care about Tiki. You may not want her to see you anymore, but I know you still care about her. Deep down you're still someone who will do anything to help a person in need. I know that you still have love for the world somewhere in there."

Mercer just shook his head. "As I enter the final stretch of my life, I realize that there isn't a man or woman I love beside me. I'm a broken man, and I'm broken because _everyone_ I have ever loved has died young." Mercer stared off into the distance. "My poor wife. My sisters. My children. My friends. My mother and father."

Ophelia looked sympathetically at Mercer. "Are you afraid of going with us because you don't want to get close to anyone again? Are you afraid we'll get hurt, and you'd relive what happened thirty years ago?"

Mercer thought about it, and he slowly nodded his head. "Yeah. Every time I look at you girls, I see the faces of your parents and grandparents staring back at me. I… I couldn't lose you too."

"Well then you'd better have to come along and train us."

Mercer didn't return Ophelia's affections. "If you two really cared about me, you'd give up. You'd be safe that way."

Ophelia kept her smile, but Mercer's words had gotten to her. "I'll shake you out of that attitude one day."

"Yeah." Mercer responded bitterly. "Sure you will."

"Uh, guys?" Soleil said as she steered Minerva. "I hate to break up your heartwarming support conversation, but we have a problem. We should be right over Southtown now, but something's wrong. I can see a town below, but the buildings are really small, and there aren't any people."

"Maybe we're just too high up." Mercer replied. "Land in the town."

When the three dismounted Minerva and walked into the town however, they found it was just as strange as it looked from the air. The entire city had been flattened, but the buildings were intact. They had been pulled into the ground. The rest of the town had disappeared completely. Mercer looked to Soleil and Ophelia for answers, but they were just as surprised as he was. "What happened here?!"

Soleil shrugged at Mercer. "I have no idea."

The three could not stress enough that Southtown hadn't been hit by an earthquake. Buildings would have collapsed in an earthquake, but these buildings were completely intact. The buildings Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil were looking at had literally sunken into the ground. It was as if the earth had become intangible and pulled the buildings into it. There was no structural damage to any building, but almost all of them were now inaccessible. Only the rooftops still poked out above ground, and they only went up to Soleil's waist. Soleil walked up to one building and sat down on the rooftop as if it were a waist high wall. "What… what could have happened here?! I've never seen anything like this?!"

Mercer glanced around. All of Southtown had been swallowed by the ground. There were no roads visible. All he could see were the rooftops of buildings, all lower than most fences. "So this just happened? Caeldori was here?"

"Yes! Caeldori has been here for weeks! Whatever happened to this place must have happened in the past few days."

Ophelia shook her head. "Oh no. Caeldori. She… she's okay right?!"

Soleil looked fearfully at the rooftops. "Of… of course she's okay! This is Caeldori we're talking about! Miss never makes a mistake! She can't… she can't be gone." Soleil froze up. For the first time since Mercer had met her, Soleil's smile disappeared entirely. "She can't be gone." Mercer put his hand on Soleil's shoulder, and she took it in her own shaky grip.

"Hey, hey come on." Mercer said in a soft tone. "I'm sure she's fine. We just need to look for her."

Soleil didn't look back up. "Yeah." She responded, her voice trembling.

"She was with Tiki right? Tiki went back to see her before we came right? Whatever happened here, it couldn't have hurt her. Tiki would have protected Caeldori."

Soleil perked up. "Y-you're right. We just need to look for her."

Ophelia looked around. "We can see everything that's here! Where could we look?"

Mercer looked around himself and spotted a relatively large tower. It rose about five meters into the sky and was the only building sticking out of the ground that was still building sized. It likely towered over the rest of the town when it was above ground. Mercer walked over to the tower and looked around the sides. A window leading into the building was still located above ground. Mercer climbed up about a meter and forced the window open. The inside of the building wasn't filled with dirt. It could still be explored. "This way! We can investigate this building!" Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil climbed in through the window and into the tower. Mercer opened up a door on the floor to reveal a ladder leading into the rest of the structure. There was no light inside the building, and immediately the three were hit with a horrible odor. It was the kind of smell that overloaded you and stopped you like a wall. Mercer and Soleil had to fight the urge to vomit. Ophelia didn't quite resist it. "I know that smell!" Mercer said through his arm as he desperately tried to cover his nose. "There are dead bodies down there! Whatever happened to this city, there were definitely fatalities."

"You want to investigate further?" Soleil asked.

"There's no light down there and the stench will only get worse. We'd pass out if we went deeper into the building! We can't go any further."

The three climbed back out of the tower. Ophelia buried her face in her hands. "Oh gods! What happened here?!"

Mercer took her hands and looked her in the eyes. "Hey, it's going to be all right. We'll just go to nearby towns and ask the people there what happened. I'm sure Tiki and Caeldori went to a nearby town. We'll find them." Mercer turned to Soleil. "What's the closest settlement?"

Soleil unfolded her map. "It looks like there's a town called Veslil about fifteen kilometers to the northeast."

"We'll just go there and ask about what happened here."

Ophelia nodded. "I just hope Caeldori is okay."


	6. The Path of the Righteous

When Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil arrived at Veslil, they were greeted by the impaled corpses of several men and women. The pikes they were impaled on rose almost three meters into the air, and the bodies had been there awhile if the stench and decomposition were any indication. Each pike had a plaque attached to the base of it, and on the plaques were the names of the men and women and the Mark of Grima. Soleil walked up to one body and looked up. She could see the Mark of Grima tattooed on the body, even from a distance. "It looks like the people of this town overthrew the Grimleal agents in the area."

"Well we don't like the Grimleal but… this is horrible. Why would someone do this?" Mercer asked.

Soleil turned to Mercer. "Sometimes the Grimleal do stuff like this. Maybe this was payback."

"I don't like this."

"We still need to ask about Southtown." Ophelia added. "We should visit the town."

"Alright. How bad could it be?"

Mercer's wariness proved justified. The first thing that the three saw when they entered Veslil itself was a public execution. On a raised stage overlooking a crowd of townspeople stood several armed guards and a bound and gagged man and woman. In front of the guards was a lanky and gangly looking man wearing an exact replica of Lucina's outfit. He was even wearing a blue wig and a replica of Lucina's butterfly mask. An estoc customized to look like the Falchion was at his side. The sight made Mercer physically ill. "You have got to be kidding me."

The three were so focused on Keith that they didn't notice another familiar man in a wide brimmed hat and a duster watching them. The man smiled when he was sure he knew who he was looking at and disappeared into a nearby alley.

Keith walked to the edge of the stage and addressed the crowd. "People of Veslil! The man and woman you see before you are charged with pickpocketing and prostitution. As Justicar it is my duty to make sure that justice is done. Will anyone step forward to defend their honor? Will anyone testify to their innocence?" The townspeople spoke nervously to each other, but no one stepped forward. Keith gave them only a few seconds. "Then they are found guilty of their crimes. The sentence is death." The woman was shaking and crying with fear. The man was still, but his expression made his hatred of the Justicar clear. Keith walked over to the man first and drew his estoc. Mercer began to think that it wasn't just for show. "Crime is a terminal virus in the body of civilization. I do what I do in Naga's name so that order can be brought to our savage race. Not to me Naga, but to your name give glory!" With that Keith brought his estoc down and decapitated the man. The crowd hadn't finished gasping when he went over to the woman. Without any hesitation he brought the same sentence on her. He sheathed his sword and faced the crowd. "This court is no longer in session."

Most of the townspeople quickly dispersed and went about their daily business, but a few people stayed behind in a kind of morbid fascination. Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil were among them. "T-that was the same guy from the homestead!" Ophelia stuttered. "D-did he really just do that?! Do you think he killed the Grimleal agents? Did he really take over the whole town?!"

Mercer was shaking with emotions ranging from horror at what he had seen to abject misery at the sight of his daughter's appearance. "I guess he's not so gods-damned harmless." Mercer stormed off.

"Where are you going?!" Ophelia asked as she tried to keep up with him.

"I'm going to find a bar."

"Because they're good sources of information?"

"Because I need a damn drink."

Mercer didn't get very far before he encountered yet another unwelcome sight from his town. Once again he came across a man with a wide brimmed hat and the Mark of Grima tattooed on his forehead. The man seemed to be staring at the ground, but it was clear that he was aware of everything Mercer was doing.

"Wait up!" Ophelia said as she and Soleil caught up to him. "You don't know… wait a minute. We've seen him before."

Theresa finally looked up at the three. "Well it looks like that prince came around."

Mercer stepped in front of Ophelia and Soleil and put his hand on his Falchion. "Look stranger, we don't know you. Why do you keep following us around-"

As Mercer spoke, Theresa pulled out a tubular device in each hand. The devices had two cylindrical barrels and handles that Theresa held on to. Mercer had never seen anything like them, so he didn't think much of it. He wasn't at all threatened when Theresa aimed the devices at him and pulled a trigger on the handle. Mercer wasn't scared until he heard a thundering crack and felt a very sharp pain in his chest. The sharp pain quickly became agonizing. It was like a stab from a sword, but so much worse. Mercer couldn't even finish fumbling around his chest to find the wound before he fell to his knees.

"Mercer!" Ophelia rushed to his side. Theresa pulled a second trigger on the device in his right hand and Ophelia herself was knocked to the ground. Soleil drew her sword and charged at Theresa, but he responded by simply lowering the first device and aiming the second one. Again the device made a sharp deafening crack. A spout of blood poured from a wound that seemed to instantly materialize on Soleil's shoulder. She fell to the ground and had to use her sword to brace herself.

"What… the… hell?!" Soleil willed herself to her feet and charged again. The man hesitated, but finally he pulled the second trigger on the device. Again Soleil was knocked back by an invisible blast. Soleil couldn't get back up, but she reached for her sword and tried as hard as she damn well could. Theresa walked up to her and crushed her hand with his foot.

"My contract's not for you, girl." Theresa calmly walked over to Mercer, who could barely manage to look up at him. "It's for you." Theresa began to reload his weapon. A skilled user could do it in less than twenty seconds. Theresa took his time on purpose. It took him almost a minute to reload one barrel. "I'll never get tired of the looks on people's faces when I use these things. They have no idea what's coming. It'll be a shame when these babies become widespread." Theresa finally finished reloading and pointed his strange weapon at Mercer's forehead. "Courtney sends his regards."

Mercer closed his eyes and heard an ear shattering noise. This time he didn't feel anything. He slowly and cautiously looked up to see that Theresa had a sword through his chest. Theresa's hand had pulled the trigger when he died, and the bullet had embedded itself in the ground just centimeters from Mercer's head. Theresa's body finally fell over as the attacker withdrew the sword. As the body fell, Mercer got a good look at his rescuer. In his increasingly blurry vision it looked like Lucina had saved him, but he knew who it really was. "You've got to be kidding me. You've… I can't… uh…"

* * *

Deep within the royal palace in Ylisstol, Gangrel stood in his official attire as emperor and watched as a young handmaiden carefully tucked his infant daughter into bed. She bowed when she finished and Gangrel gently kissed his daughter on the forehead. The two silently left the room.

"Is there anything else you need, your highness?"

"That will be all. Thank you." The handmaiden bowed and left the throne room. As Gangrel watched her go, he saw a blue figure out of the corner of his eye. He heard a feminine voice that he never wanted to hear again, a voice that resonated through his nightmares.

"Your daughter is adorable. I feel bad for her. She did nothing to deserve a monster like you as a father."

Gangrel turned to see Lucina standing across the room, leaning against the wall. She had her Parallel Falchion sheathed by her side and she also had her cape. She was crossing her arms, but they seemed to flicker in and out of existence. She shot an icy cold stare at Gangrel, a stare he could barely meet. "Lucina! How long has it been since we've seen each other?" Gangrel smiled uneasily, but Lucina's death glare overpowered him. He looked down at his feet. "This is about your father isn't it? You should be looking forward to his death! You'll get to see him again! You'll get to be with him! That's what you always wanted right?!"

"You're afraid of him."

Gangrel reached for his levin sword, and a look of twisted rage consumed his face. "Afraid of him?! I'm not afraid of him?! I defeated him! I won!"

"But you didn't kill him. Even after all these years you're afraid that he'll come for you. You're afraid to face him."

"I'm not afraid of anyone!"

Lucina started to slowly walk towards Gangrel. He nervously backed away from her as she did. "When you were just a boy, you were told stories about Ylissean conquerors. You were told all about the crusades against Plegia. You were told about how Exalts put entire towns to the sword in Naga's name. These stories were supposed to inspire you to fight for Plegia, but they just made you afraid. When you became king and met Emmeryn, you were stunned. She was wise, noble, and pacifistic. She was nothing like the Exalts you had heard about. You thought you could push her around." At this point Lucina had almost pinned Gangrel to the wall, and he awkwardly slid against the wall to give himself more space. "But then Chrom came. When you saw him, you saw within him all the Exalts you had heard about. You saw within him everything you were afraid of. You couldn't face him then, and you can't do it now."

"Shut up!" Gangrel drew his levin sword and tossed it at Lucina. It simply passed through her. "I don't have to take anything from you! You're a failure! After everything you did, you failed! You devoted your entire life to stopping Grima, but you couldn't! You're nothing!"

"You're a monster."

"Why do you keep seeing me! We both fought for the same thing!"

"I fought to stop Grima!"

"Well, yes, but we both fought for humanity! You were misguided! You thought that we could defeat Grima, but that wasn't possible! By overthrowing Validar and convincing Grima to spare humanity, I saved the world! Me! Not you!"

"You think you're a hero?"

"We're the same! I did some ugly things yes, but so did you! You fought Chrom in Regna Ferox! You tried to kill Robin! You were going to kill him in cold blood! You did some ugly things, but it was all to save the world! You were willing to do what needed to be done! I'm no different! Yes I have a higher body count, but I actually succeeded in saving humanity! I didn't want to do it! I didn't want to kill anyone! I didn't have a choice! You would never understand! Aversa's plan was the only way to save humanity! You would've kept fighting! You would never have stopped fighting! You had to be killed!" Gangrel fell to his knees. "I didn't want to! Gods I didn't want to! I had no choice! I didn't want you to die!" Gangrel looked up at Lucina. She was still crossing her arms, and they still blinked in and out of existence. "I didn't want you to lose your arms! I didn't want any of that! You made me do it! You wouldn't have stopped fighting!" Gangrel rose to his feet and stepped towards Lucina. He poked her in the chest to emphasize his words, but his hand passed through her. "People remember you as a hero so, so by that logic I'm a hero! I'm the greatest hero that ever lived! Me! Not you! I did the right thing! I saved humanity!"

Lucina just shook her head and walked through a wall. Gangrel ran into his trophy room and looked at the trophies along the wall. "Leave me alone! All of you! STOP TALKING TO ME!" Gangrel grabbed his head and rocked himself back and forth. "They keep talking to me." He whimpered to himself. "All of them. Every one of them. They keep talking to me! They won't leave me alone." Gangrel glanced up and noticed his customized outfit hanging on the wall. "Except when I wear my outfit. When I'm wearing my emperor robes, they talk to me. They never leave me alone! When I'm wearing that outfit though, then they leave me alone." Gangrel quickly stripped himself of his robes and embraced his customized outfit. "When I wear you, they leave me alone. Why should I wear anything else?"

* * *

Mercer awoke screaming. He was tied to a chair, and in front of him was a familiar but unwelcome masked face. He furiously struggled to free himself, but his bindings wouldn't budge.

"Good to see you're awake. Do you remember me?"

"No. People who dress up as my daughter are so common. Nothing about you stands out."

Keith smiled. With his mask it was hard to tell how sincere it was. "They say that prince Chrom was so formal and regal. It's nice to see that you've developed a sense of sarcasm over all these years."

"What did you do to me?!"

"Why do you talk to me like I'm your worst enemy? We both fight against the Grimleal. We're on the same side."

"We are not on the same side." Mercer snarled.

"Is it because I remind you of her? I have nothing but respect for your daughter. She was a great warrior."

"Remind me? You _remind_ me of her? No. You're a sick perversion. You've turned this city into a dictatorship. You're not just some kid. You're insane." Mercer struggled against his restraints again. "Now what did you do to me?!" Keith sighed and grabbed Mercer's shirt. Mercer struggled against his bindings in frustration as Keith unbuttoned his work shirt. He paid no mind to Mercer's anger or the disturbing nature of his actions. He just slowly undid the shirt button by button and then opened it up to expose Mercer's bare chest. Mercer looked down to see a surgical scar next to his heart. He struggled even more in a mixture of rage and panic. "What did you do to me?!"

"What did we _do_ to you? We saved your life! That bullet in you had to come out."

"What is a bullet?"

"A bullet is what we call the projectile that is shot from a firearm. A firearm is a projectile weapon. To put it simply, it's like a bow but much, much more powerful. The technology is actually ancient, but firearms have only recently started to be used. You don't get out much do you?"

"Where are Ophelia and Soleil?! If you hurt them!"

"They're fine. They were shot too, but they're young. They'll heal. Ophelia's wound was very minor. Soleil took two bullets. She required extensive surgery to remove them, but I'm sure she'll pull through."

"You're sure? You don't know!"

"Well you can never know these things."

"What do you even want from us? What do you want from me?!"

"I want the same thing I wanted when I visited you at your home! I want you to help me! We're both fighting against the Grimleal! You can join my organization! Together we can save the world!" Keith grew more unhinged with each word, and he was almost spitting as he talked. "Look at all those men and women out there with their _robes_ and their _uuuniforms_. Think of all the HARM they've DONE to US! To humanity! We can fix it though! We can make their empire disappear! We can make the world as it was before the pale hide of their pathetic civilization _infected_ it so!"

"And what is this world you're trying to make?! What are you trying to do?!"

"We can make the world as it used to be! A world of heroes! That's what it was like under Anri! Under Marth! Under Alm and Celica! Under the First Exalt! Under you, and Robin, and Lucina thirty years ago! We can wipe away the decadent filth that has corrupted this planet! We can make it so that strong men and women change the world through the sheer force of their will! That's how it should be! The strong should lead! The corrupt should be killed! This is the point of feudalism! This is the purpose of humanity! We can make this world as it should be! Join me, Chrom, and together we can save this world!"

Mercer shook his head. Keith's deranged ranting was getting to him, but he wouldn't back down. "I will never join you. You rule through intimidation and fear! You're no better than the Grimleal!"

"Really?! _Really_?! I'm no better than them? I don't worship a god of death! I didn't ruin the planet! I'm what this world needs!"

"You're just another terrorist!"

Keith didn't say anything else. He just stood in silence and stared at Mercer for several seconds. It was impossible to tell his expression through his mask. He could have been looking at Mercer with a look of burning hatred, or he could have just been disappointed. Finally Keith turned and sat back down in his chair. He flailed his arms and legs around in a childish tantrum before sitting still. An awkward minute passed until he finally moved again. He slowly got up and dragged himself back to Mercer. He seemed to be genuinely defeated. "Well my boss always did say I wasn't good with people. I'm still going to take you to her. She can convince you to help us."

Mercer shot Keith a death glare. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I don't care if I have to break every bone in your body and drag you there. You're going to see my boss. She's very interested in seeing you again, Chrom."

"Do I know her?"

"Yes. She knows you very well. She'll be happy to finally see you again after all these years."

"Well I'm not going with you."

"We'll see." Keith motioned for his men to come over. They untied Mercer from the chair, but they didn't free his hands. Even then, as soon as they untied him, Mercer turned and head butted one of the guards. The other guard punched him in the stomach. Keith shook his head. "I can't have you attacking my guards now. Break his knee." The two guards forced Mercer to his feet and held his leg in place. Mercer desperately tried to squirm free, but one of the guards landed a solid kick to his knee and bent it sickeningly out of place. Mercer cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground when the men let go of his arms. Keith stood over him as he writhed in abject misery. "You're welcome for saving your life, by the way."

Keith's men set Mercer's knee back into place and bandaged it so that it would heal properly, but he was still in no condition to move. Mercer was dragged to a cell in a prison built into Keith's headquarters. There he found Ophelia and Soleil waiting for him. The guards tossed him in with the two and then left.

Soleil had been stripped of her top and upper armor. She was only wearing a bra, and most of the bare skin on her chest was covered with bandages. Where she had been shot, the bandages were very bloody. Ophelia's injuries weren't as severe as Soleil's and she was still wearing her normal attire, but from the see-through fabric in her clothing it was clear that she also had a surgical scar. Soleil looked up at Mercer and gave him a very weak smile. "Mercer! You're back! How was your trip?"

"My trip?"

"Your trip to the fair? Did you win any prizes?"

"What?"

Soleil looked over at Ophelia. "Did I not get it right?" Ophelia shook her head and Soleil shrugged. "Oh I'm, I'm sorry Mercer. I'm feeling kind of out of it."

"Did they hurt you?!"

"Huh, oh no, no! They really cut into me to get those bullets out. They almost tore me in half. Good thing they had healing staffs around. After surgery they just took us here. They didn't hurt us or anything."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm still a little loopy from all the drugs they put into me." Soleil turned back to Ophelia and gave her a silly grin. "Ophelia, did I ever tell you that you're my best friend? You're my best friend! Not like Caeldori. She's always upstaging me and making me look bad, that bat rastard." Soleil suddenly started crying and she grabbed her face. "Oh gods I miss her!"

Ophelia put her hand on Soleil's shoulder. "There, there." She said half-heartedly. She looked up at Mercer. "They didn't hurt us. They took us into surgery to get those projectiles out, but then they just took us here. What did they want with you?"

"It was Keith. He's the one who came to the house. He still wants my help. He said he's going to drag us before his boss."

"What's going to happen to us then?" Mercer didn't answer Ophelia. He just looked down at the ground. Ophelia walked over to him and sat down. "Mercer?"

"He's right about her."

"What?"

"Keith. He's right about her."

"He's right about who?"

"Who do you think?!"

Ophelia gave Mercer a confused look. She realized who he was talking about, but she didn't understand why he was saying this. "Lucina?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't make sense! Lucina wasn't insane! This man is a nutcase!"

"Yes she wasn't insane, but he's right about her otherwise. Her life was consumed by violence. She devoted everything to fighting against Grima. She was as single minded as Keith is, even if she wasn't insane like he is. She was a living weapon and nothing more. She didn't know how to live a normal life. If we actually defeated Grima, she probably would have just walked away into the sunset. She didn't know anything else."

Ophelia was unnerved by what Mercer was saying. "What?! She was nothing like what that man thinks she was like! How can you say these things?!"

"I loved her. She was my daughter and I loved her. Nothing could ever change that. Nothing will ever change that." Mercer looked down. "But when I looked at her, when I really looked into who she was as a person… I saw my father. Lucina was kind and brave. She was the strongest woman I've ever met. She was also a soldier to the bone. She let war dominate her entire life, all in the belief that her actions were for the greater good. My father did what he did for the greater good." Mercer shook his head. "Lucina was capable of horrible things. I can't imagine the horrors she saw in her timeline, and I can't imagine the things she had to do. When she came to this timeline, she was willing to do whatever it took to protect the world. She went on her own for so long. She didn't join us, or meet up with the other children. She thought she could do everything herself." Mercer paused for some time. "She tried to kill Robin, you know. She tried to butcher him in cold blood. I'm sure she didn't want to, but she would have gone through with it. All in the name of the greater good." Mercer looked back to Ophelia. "My father did what he did for the greater good. He had good intentions, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. My father was willing to do whatever it took to protect the world. He was willing to do horrible things. If Lucina had power and several decades of ruling… would she have turned out like him?"

"How could you even say that? Lucina was a good person!"

"I know, but what I'm trying to say is that maybe… maybe my father was a good person once. Maybe violence ruined him. Maybe it would have ruined her. If Lucina had no empathy or restraints then maybe she would have been exactly like Keith."

"I… I can't believe you're saying that. Why are you talking like this?

Mercer didn't look at Ophelia. He stared off into nothing. "Emmeryn was right. Emmeryn was always right."

"What?"

"When Emmeryn was just a girl, and I was a very young boy, we were walking through town by ourselves. An older boy came up to us. He started to get aggressive. Looking back on it, he couldn't have been more than eleven years old, but in my eyes he was massive. I was scared, but more than that I was terrified that he would hurt Emmeryn. She was calm and collected the entire time. If I had just let her talk to the boy, I'm sure she could have convinced him to leave. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing though." A tear fell down Mercer's cheek and his voice began to quake. "I took a rock from the ground and I struck the boy in the face with it. He didn't see it coming, and after I hit him he just stood there. He couldn't believe such a small child had attacked him. I didn't stop though. I hit him again, and again, and again. He fell over and I kept hitting him. I hit him until his face was a bloody mess. I hit him until he couldn't do anything but grab his face and cry, and then I turned to Emmeryn and smiled at her. I expected her to be so proud of me. I thought I had just saved her." Mercer put his hands to his ears and shook his head. "I will never forget how she looked at me. She was horrified. I was her baby brother. She never imagined that I could be capable of something like that. From that point on she realized that I had something within me that she didn't have. Something that I got from my father. Violence." Mercer couldn't hold back his tears anymore. "She loved me. She always loved me, but from then on she never looked at me the same way again. I was no longer her adorable baby brother. She realized that I had a desire to fight within me. She realized that I had taken after our father more than she had." Mercer finally buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably. "Ever since I was a boy I thought she was wrong! I thought that pacifism wasn't enough. I thought that you had to be able to defend yourself from threats. I thought I could take up a life of fighting to protect Ylisse. I should have been more like Emmeryn. For all the fighting I did, what good did it do?! I didn't protect anything! My friends and family are dead because of me! If I had been more like Emmeryn, then I could've taken up the throne after she was injured. I could have helped fix things. Instead I thought I could change things by leading a few dozen people and swinging my sword around! What good did I do?! I'm so sorry, Emmeryn. What have I become?!"

Ophelia and Soleil were completely at a loss for how to respond. Ophelia slowly put her hand on Mercer's shoulder. She desperately wanted to help him, but she was also very put off by the sight of such an old and rugged man bawling into his hands. She also knew that nothing she could say would erase the decades of pain that Mercer was struggling back, but she had to try. She couldn't just sit there and watch. "It's okay, Mercer." Ophelia tried rocking him back and forth, though he was too heavy to be moved much. "It's okay. I know you're upset-"

"I'm _upset_?! Is that the word? I'm _upset_?! I used to get _upset_ when I got a rock in my shoe. I used to get _upset_ when I injured myself training. I used to get _upset_ when insects got into the food. Is that the word for what I'm feeling now?! If there's a better word than please tell me because I don't know!"

Mercer went back to burying his face in his hands. Ophelia took her hand away, but she refused to give up. "I know you've given up on yourself, Mercer. I know you hate everything about what you've become. No matter what happens though, we won't give up on you. We still believe in you… Chrom." Mercer looked up at Ophelia at the mention of his old name. There wasn't any anger or frustration in his expression. He looked completely and utterly broken, but Ophelia just smiled at him. "We still need your help."

"Y-you're right. You're right. My life is a failure, but I can't give up on you two. I can't let anything happen to you. We're going to get out of here." Mercer rose to his feet. In an instant all of his pain fell away. His eyes were still bloodshot from crying, but he otherwise looked determined and valiant. Ophelia couldn't help but let a stupid grin take her face. She thought back to the stories of Chrom that Tiki had told her. For the first time she could see the man that she thought Mercer to be. "I am not going to let that monster hurt anyone else. We are escaping, and we will stop that man. His cruelty will come to an end!" Mercer nodded at Ophelia and Soleil. "You two honor me with your service. I don't deserve your trust… but thank you."

Ophelia put her hands together and shook with excitement. "Really?! How can we escape though?"

Mercer thought for a moment, but he came to a decision quickly. He seemed to already have an idea, rather he was working up the courage to tell Ophelia. "Ophelia, remember that body switching ritual you performed on Soleil? Could you do it again?"

"W-what? I-I think so. Why?!"

"Ophelia this is going to sound strange… but I want your body."

For a second Ophelia just sat in silence, carefully and desperately inspecting Mercer to find any signs of joking. "Yeah that does sound weird."

Soleil snickered. "Aren't you two related?"

"I am in no mood!" Mercer snapped back. He turned to Ophelia again. "I know this sounds strange, but this could be our only way out. I can't fight like this! My knee is badly injured. I'd be able to move in your body, and you're related to me so I can use the Falchion in your body."

"You… you can't be serious?!"

"Ophelia, we don't have any other options! Keith is planning on taking us somewhere. We have to escape right now!"

"But… it's just so… but-"

"Please, Ophelia. I won't let anything happen to you. I just need you to trust me."

Ophelia looked to Soleil, but she just shrugged. Ophelia furiously wanted Mercer to just drop the subject, but she realized that he was right. They had no other option. Ophelia was always trying to inspire Mercer by telling him that she believed in him and trusted him, even when he had given up on himself. Maybe it was time to prove that he had her complete trust. "Alright." She said nervously. "Alright. Let's just make it quick."

* * *

For several minutes the guard stationed outside of the cells had heard constant screaming. He had been told not to interact with the prisoners, but he couldn't take it anymore. The screaming had to stop, even if it meant beating the prisoners into unconsciousness. The guard unlocked the door leading into the cells and then went to Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil's cell. The guard found the older man screaming in agony as he clutched his knee. A young pink haired woman knelt beside him. She looked up at the guard. "Help him! Something is wrong with his knee! It's bleeding again! You have to do something!" Reluctantly the guard unlocked the cell door and stepped inside. He realized that he couldn't see the third prisoner and turned to see a blonde woman hiding in the corner. He drew his sword and pointed it at her.

"Hey! Get back here where I can see you!"

The blonde woman stepped forwards, but she didn't move to the other end of the cell. "I don't want to be near that man! He scares me!"

"Get over here!"

"Come on. I'm just a young woman. I don't have any weapons or armor."

"He needs your help!" Soleil shouted at the guard. "Please!"

The guard finally ignored Ophelia and knelt beside Mercer. As he inspected Mercer, "Ophelia" kicked out his knee and then tore the metal helmet off his head. Ophelia used it as a weapon, repeatedly striking the guard in the head with it. When he managed to roll over she struck him in the neck, hard enough to stun him but not hard enough to prevent him from talking.

"Hey! Stop!"

Ophelia turned to see a second guard approaching the cell. She quickly took the sword from the guard's hip and brought it up just in time to block a slash from the second guard. Ophelia was immediately forced back by the man's superior strength, but she recovered quickly. She recovered so quickly that Ophelia herself seemed surprised. "Woah. To be young again!" The man slashed again but Ophelia easily sidestepped it and struck the man in the face with her hilt. She then quickly cut the man in the chest twice in an x like fashion, and then stabbed him through the abdomen. With a roar that sounded horrifying even through Ophelia's very dainty voice, she withdrew her sword and then spun around to strike the man in the back of his head. The man fell over unmoving, and the first guard covered his head in terror. Ophelia brought the man's own sword to him. "Where is the lock up?!" She roared in the most guttural voice she could manage. "Where are you keeping our equipment?! Tell me and you can live through this!"

* * *

"We have a problem, Justicar." A heavily armored woman reported to Keith as he sat in his desk, overlooking Veslil from his third story window. Keith didn't turn to her.

"Don't tell me it's the prisoners."

"Well… it's really just one prisoner."

"Chrom."

"Actually no. It's the blonde woman. What was her name? Orochi? Oboro?"

"Ophelia. She's the one attacking us?"

"She's already killed most of our guards. She's coming towards you."

"Hmm. Let her try."

The woman turned at the sounds of screaming coming from outside the door. She drew a small axe and crept towards it. Outside the screaming stopped and she could hear two bodies hit the floor. She prepared to open the door, but right before she did the door came flying out and struck her in the face. The woman recovered in time to see a sword coming at her. The woman hit the floor before she could even scream. Her head followed a second later. Only then did Keith turn around.

"Ophelia. I underestimated you. I didn't know you had it in-" Keith paused as he got a good look at "Ophelia". She was barefoot. Sandals like the ones she wore weren't practical in combat, but Ophelia hadn't stopped wearing them before. Why now? Ophelia had also supplemented her skimpy mage attire with scavenged armor. She had taken metal and leather armor pieces from Keith's soldiers. Ophelia was wielding the Falchion, and there was a look of rage and determination on her face. Keith hadn't seen that expression on Ophelia, but there was a man he had seen it on. "You're… you're not Ophelia at all are you? You're… you're Chrom! You're in her body!" Keith gave an uneasy laugh. "How did you do that? No wonder Robin was the tactician! Your plans are insane!"

Mercer raised the Falchion. "Your tyranny ends now, Keith. I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else."

"I saved this city from the Grimleal! I walk the path of the righteous!"

"You're just a thug."

"I'm doing what needs to be done!"

"They all say that."

Keith drew his customized estoc. "Come on then, old man!"

Mercer rushed at Keith and the two engaged in a bitter and furious bout. Mercer was much faster and more agile in Ophelia's body than he was in his older body. Ophelia was much weaker and shorter than Mercer, but Mercer was able to move in ways he hadn't been able to for decades. Unfortunately for Mercer, Keith was fairly skilled himself. He couldn't be mentioned in the same breath as the woman he so desperately wanted to emulate, but he was skilled enough to be a match for Mercer in his unfamiliar body. Ophelia's youth gave Mercer speed and agility, but Keith himself was stronger and even younger than Ophelia. Mercer's only advantage was his superior skill, but Keith was good enough to resist his attempts to end the fight quickly.

After several vicious minutes of fighting, Keith managed to strike Mercer in the face. Mercer kept his pain tolerance however, and he willed himself through the pain enough to exploit an opening in Keith's form and slash him across his arm. Keith responded with a solid kick to Mercer's chest. Both stumbled backwards and lost their swords. Mercer forced himself to his feet as quickly as possible and tried to tackle Keith. Keith shoved him off and the two raised their fists.

"Are you sure about that, old man? I'm stronger than you in that body. You're only partially a man now!"

"And you're pure scum!"

Mercer and Keith grappled with each other, but Keith was right. He easily shrugged off Mercer's strikes and protected his vitals and weak points. Keith went on the offensive and forced Mercer back against the wall. He managed to grab both of Mercer's arms and pinned him, overpowering his attempts to break free.

"You didn't think this through, Chrom! I'm stronger than you in that body, and I'm even younger than she is. I have every advantage over you!"

"No! I still have one!"

"And what is that?"

"I'm not insane!"

Mercer kneed Keith in the chest and swiped the butterfly mask off his face when he stumbled backwards. Keith prepared to counterattack, but just like before he paused when he realized that his mask was gone. He desperately grabbed at his face and started hyperventilating. "My _**faaace**_!" Keith swiped at Mercer in an attempt to get his mask back, but he had no form. He flailed around as if he were trying to chase away flies. Mercer dodged his attacks and brutally assaulted him. Mercer landed multiple light hits to Keith's face, neck, and abdomen to stun him, and in his unhinged state Keith wasn't able to effectively resist them. When Mercer was sure that Keith was almost beaten, he started landing power blows. He savagely struck Keith until his face was bloodied, and then he grabbed Keith by the collar.

"You say you want to be my daughter! You want to follow in her legacy?! Well you can't! Not LIKE _**THIS**_!" Mercer threw Keith into the window with such force that the window cracked. With his last bit of strength Keith grabbed his chair and threw it through the window to shatter it completely. He took a large piece of broken glass and tried using it as a makeshift knife to attack Mercer. Mercer disarmed him, stabbed him in the shoulder with it, and then landed a solid blow to the head that sent Keith to the ground. Mercer retrieved his Falchion and prepared to execute Keith with it.

"G-go ahead! Do it! What makes you any better than me then?!"

"I didn't start this!"

Keith chucked, blood running from his mouth. "Oh my boss is really going to like you. It's been so long since she's seen you. She'll love what you've become."

Mercer's curiosity was too great. He lowered his sword. "Who is your boss?! Why do you keep saying that she knows me!"

"You, you don't know anything about the world do you?! Why didn't you come with me?!"

"You're trying to kidnap me and my friends!"

"I'm trying to help!"

Before Mercer could press any further, the entire building suddenly began to shake and rattle. Before any structural damage could happen, the building fell into a massive sinkhole. All of Veslil soon followed. The streets and everyone on them disappeared into the earth, and the buildings fell downwards as if the ground had ceased to exist entirely. Within seconds everything but the rooftops had disappeared.


	7. The Survivors

The forest that hid The Rockpile was home to a number of rocky outcroppings that rose out of the ground. On a toothpick style mountain with a sheer cliff straight up and down was the main facility itself. The mountain wasn't the tallest in the area, but it was the most difficult to scale by foot. It was impossible to get to the camp itself without flying.

Inside of the facility, three soldiers took a red haired woman through a hallway. Two of the men held her up by her arms. The woman gave them no assistance. They had to carry her weight, and her legs were dragging on the ground.

"How much further must we heft this criminal? Any cell will do! Why not toss her in with this lot?" The soldier nodded towards a cell along the wall. A number of aggressive men tried to grab at the group through the cell bars. They catcalled as the woman went by their cell. "They look like they could use the companionship."

"Them?! What about us?" The second soldier smiled at the woman. "We did save her from certain death at Southtown. She owes us her gratitude."

"Quiet!" The lead soldier commanded. "You two snivel like runts desperate for the teat! She's not meant for the jail cells. The Inquisitor had something specific in mind. She is not to be harmed."

The three soldiers took their prisoner down the hallway until they reached a small room. The lead soldier had to unlock a number of locks on the thick metal door, but the room otherwise looked unimportant. Inside was nothing more than what appeared to be an operating table and shelves filled with various tools and potions. A man eyed the group carefully as they entered the room. The man was wearing a thick black robe, but plate armor covered it along his shoulders, legs, and chest. The man's plate armor was pitch black with contrasting gold trimmings. Clutched in the man's hand was a long glaive. At first glance the weapon seemed purely ceremonial. The weapon was very ornate and had styling that appeared to be entirely pointless, but the weapon's blade was reinforced. The man certainly held it like a real weapon.

"Where do you want her?" The lead soldier asked. The man looked to the table.

"Strap her down, would you?" He spoke in a soft tone.

"Are you sure you want to keep the armor on?" One of the soldiers suggested.

"Get out of here, brute. I do not share your affinity for barbarism."

The two soldiers carrying her strapped the woman to the table. The three soldiers then quickly left, leaving the woman alone with the man. He slowly approached her as she studied him. "Hello, Caeldori. That's right. I know who you are. They call you the last Pegasus Knight. You have quite the ancestry."

Caeldori smiled weakly. "Who do I have the _pleasure_ of talking to?"

"My name is Altman. I am in service to the Grimleal Inquisitors. I report directly to High Inquisitor Aversa herself."

"Guard towers."

"Hmm?"

"Your guard towers aren't spaced very well. There's no way you can see the entire prison courtyard from them. You're giving the prisoners chances to escape your watch. That's a very significant design flaw."

Altman just smiled. "Well that's… I'll keep that in mind. I assure you that I'm not normally attached to this installation, however. I'm here for a specific purpose." Altman took a purple vial of liquid from the shelf. "Do you know what radiation is, Caeldori?" Altman was almost leaning over her at this point. "It's invisible energy. When you're exposed to it, it sticks to you. It clings to your very bones. Your body can never pass it normally. When your mother passed through the outrealm gate to travel to our timeline, she would have been exposed to large amounts of radiation. Honestly I'm not sure Naga even understood how much radiation the children were exposed to. I doubt any of them would have lived past sixty." As Altman spoke he slowly drew the vial to Caeldori's lips and forced her to drink. When she struggled he forced it more violently, all without ever raising his voice. "Your mother's body was exposed to so much radiation that some of it might have been passed down to you. Within your own body could be traces of that radiation. If we can study this trace of Naga's power, then we can understand the magic that Naga used to open the outrealm gate. That serum will help remove any radiation you have in you. It takes weeks to pass through your body though." Altman finally took the vial away from Caeldori and walked towards the shelves as she caught her breath. He retrieved a lightning tome and returned to her. "Don't worry. I won't keep you here that long. I find that electricity tends to speed up the absorption."

Outside the room, the two soldiers jumped up when they heard a piercing scream come from inside. One of them shook his head. "That girl is going to wish she died in Southtown."


	8. The Threat Below

When the shaking finally stopped and the buildings of Veslil settled into their new positions, the sound of screaming echoed through the underground chamber the town now found itself in. Hundreds of people screamed in terror and agony. Mercer had never heard anything so horrifying. Decades of fighting and experience gave Mercer the fortitude to keep his head through it all, but the screaming shook him to his very soul. Mercer just took deep breaths and waited for the screaming to finally stop. Within minutes the screaming did stop. If people had been screaming from fear or from being crushed by rubble, they wouldn't have stopped calling out after only a few minutes. Something was wrong.

Mercer got up. He was pleasantly surprised by how injured he wasn't. His old body would talk to him if he so much as sat down in his chair too hard. Ophelia's body was like a tank by comparison. Mercer walked over to Keith. He was slumped on the ground as if he were unconscious, but when Mercer rolled him over he found that Keith was just still. He looked straight ahead and didn't react to Mercer at all. It was like he was actually in shock. Unsettling as Keith had been, it was even weirder to see him still.

"What the hell is happening to the city?!" Mercer bellowed. Keith didn't so much as turn his head. Mercer retrieved his Falchion and brought it to Keith's neck. "If you had anything to do with this?!"

Keith didn't react at all. "My town." He said weakly in a flat and monotone voice. "My people. It's my job to protect them."

"What?!"

Keith's lip trembled. "It's my job to protect them, and they're all gone. My people."

"They're not your people to rule!" Keith didn't react at all to Mercer's aggression. He seemed to actually be in shock. Mercer took his sword away from Keith and knelt beside him. "You… you know what's happening here don't you?"

"Yes."

"The same thing that happened to Southtown?"

Keith looked horrified. "This happened to Southtown?!"

"You didn't know?"

"No!"

"We were just there. Everything was gone. The buildings were sunken into the ground."

Keith's head slumped back down. "Yeah… I know what's doing this."

"What?!"

Keith rose to his feet. "When Gangrel and Aversa negotiated humanity's surrender, Grima made the Risen disappear. Grima didn't get rid of them though. Grima forced them underground, and over time they mutated."

"Huh?!"

"They're called Tunnellers. They live underground, and they've spent so much time there that they go blind in the light. They prey on people, and that's not a metaphor. They eat people. Left on their own they can depopulate entire regions. They dig complicated tunnel systems under towns and cities. They do it slowly so that nobody knows what's happening. When they're ready to attack, they widen the tunnels just enough to cause the ground to collapse. The settlement falls into their underground cavern, and as soon as it does the Tunnellers emerge from their tunnels and attack. They kill everyone, and then they fill in all the sinkholes so that there's no trace of what happened."

"What?! Why haven't I ever heard of something like this before?!"

"They've destroyed cities in Ferox before, but there's never been a Ylissean attack! The Grimleal must have brought them here."

"If you know so much about them then why didn't you prepare?! Why didn't you evacuate the town?!"

"How was I supposed to know?! There's never been an attack this far south before!"

"Well this happened to Southtown a few days ago! Are you telling me no one from there came here to warn you?!"

"Nobody ever survives Tunneller attacks." Keith sat back down on the floor. "The screaming stopped because everyone in the streets is dead. They're making their way into the buildings as we speak. They'll be in here soon." Keith looked up at Mercer. "We're going to die. Your life is going to end here, Chrom. I'm sorry. I just wanted to help."

Mercer kicked Keith in the shoulder. "Get up!"

"Why? It's over." Keith's voice was still monotone. "My people. I was supposed to protect them. My people."

Mercer grabbed Keith by his collar and tried to force him to his feet. Ophelia's body wasn't strong enough to lift Keith, so Mercer settled for kneeling over him. "Listen here! It's your fault we're stuck here. Ophelia and Soleil are not going to die because of you!"

"Where are they now?"

"I left them in their cell with the key."

"Let's hope they lock the door. I may have saved their life for now, but we're all doomed now."

Mercer grabbed Keith's neck and pressed down. Even then Keith didn't react much. "I'm not leaving them. They have their whole damn lives ahead of them. They're not going to die because they went with me. Damnit they are _not_ going to die!"

Keith gave a weak smile. "Looking to make up for your past mistakes, Chrom?"

Mercer punched Keith in the face. He briefly winced in pain, but then returned to his blank stare. "Listen, kid! You don't like me and I sure as hell don't like you, but we're going to work together to get out of this!"

"You misunderstand. I like you. I just wanted to help you."

"Knock it off! You tried to kidnap us! You had my knee broken! I should do to you everything that you've done to other people, but I just want to save Ophelia and Soleil. We're getting through this, Keith, and you're going to help me."

"Alright." Keith got up. "Alright. Let's barricade the door. Help me get that desk."

"No we need to get to Ophelia and Soleil!"

"If they're in the cell then they're safe. We can't go through the building now. Tunnellers will be everywhere. We'll have to wait for them to finish eating the soldiers you killed. When they leave, we'll be able to move through the building."

"So what do we do until then?"

"Let me tell you about my organization. We could be allies."

"You're a tyrant."

"You don't know us."

"I've seen plenty of men like you."

"Just help me with the desk."

Keith and Mercer barricaded the door with whatever they could find. Keith wouldn't let Mercer remove the body of his personal guard for fear of it attracting Tunnellers, so Mercer retreated to the other side of the room. Keith stayed by his guard, occasionally moving her severed head around with his foot. Mercer couldn't tell it if was some kind of mourning or if Keith was angry at her inability to stop him. Either way he couldn't stand it anymore. He decided to talk to Keith, if only to get him to stop. "So… what's your story, Keith? Why are you like… this?"

Keith walked over to Mercer. For the first time since the building fell into the ground, Keith was confident in his movements. He had been preparing what he was going to say. "I was born to peasants just trying to make rent for the Grimleal landlords, same as most people in the world. My father had his share of vices. He fell into drugs, gambling, and drinking. Eventually he couldn't pay the rent anymore, so the Grimleal made an example of him. Then they took my mother and I as slaves to pay off the debt. This is all just what my mother told me by the way. My father died long before I was old enough to remember things. I'd been a slave since I could remember anything." Keith eyed Mercer carefully to make sure he was listening. "But wait, it gets better. My mother and I were treated like property. They did whatever they wanted to us, and I mean whatever they wanted. My mother was a proud woman. No matter what they did to her, her spirit wouldn't break. One day they beat her so badly that everything else broke instead. When they were done they just left her there, and I went up to her. I was only eight years old at the time. In my childish stupidity I thought she might be okay. I nudged her to get back up. I cried for her to get back up. I finally managed to roll her over." Keith trembled and his voice began to quake, and his confidence disappeared. "There was MEAT coming OUT of her FACE!" Tears rolled down Keith's cheeks, but he didn't stop. He only seemed to inspire himself to talk more. "That was the end of her enslavement, but it sure as hell wasn't the end of mine. They kept me for years. My entire childhood. I realized that it was never going to end. The only thing I had in the world was myself. Nothing was going to help me! I had to get out of there myself. Even if I had no chance, even if I would surely die trying to escape, I had to try. When I was about thirteen or fourteen, I waited until one of the men took me alone for a… private session. I took a knife I had smuggled away and I slit his throat when his guard was down. As I felt the warm spray of blood on me, I realized that they weren't invincible… and that there was no going back. I made a run for it. I cut anyone that got in my way. I think I injured four or five men, but they overwhelmed me. They beat me and beat me. They wouldn't kill me outright. No, they just had to beat me. They needed revenge for what I'd done to them, as if I was the one who had wronged them. They didn't kill me, but I was too badly injured to be taken back. They just dumped me into the wilderness and left me to die of exposure. I didn't die though. Life clung to me, and I dragged myself to the nearest settlement."

Mercer didn't know what to say. "Keith I… I…"

"That's when it happened. That's when I first learned about her."

"Lucina?"

"The nearest settlement was Shepherd's Folly."

"Shepherd's Folly?" Mercer was afraid of what Keith was getting at. "W-what is that?!"

Keith smiled faintly. "Oh you poor man. You don't know, do you? It's where they died, Chrom. It's where they died thirty years ago. It's a tourist attraction."

"They turned it into a damn tourist attraction?!" Mercer yelled.

"Yeah. You can learn all about them there. It's where I learned about her. After everything that happened to her, she had every right to just lie down and die. She didn't break though. She didn't just survive, she tried to change the world. She didn't succeed, but she tried. I figured that if she could have the strength to try and change the world after everything that she went through, then I could too. All I had in life was myself, but I could fight for a better world. Through sheer force of will I could make the world a better place for everybody. I could continue her work. I could follow in her legacy. Keith shook his head. "No. I can continue where she left off. I can fight to fix the world."

For once Mercer looked at Keith contemplatively. He saw past his insanity and the painful reminder of his daughter. He saw that Keith was trying to be a good person deep down, even if he was very broken. "Keith… I know you think you're doing the right thing, but you have to see that what you're doing is wrong. People are suffering because of you. You have no right to enforce your will on others like this."

"I have the responsibility! If you have the ability to help the world, and you choose not to, then you're part of the problem. I'm doing what heroes do. The great heroes of history were violent. Do you think Medeus and Grima were defeated with diplomacy? No! The heroes fought and slew their enemies! They used violence to impose their will on the world. They were violent people, but history remembers them as heroes because they changed the world for the better. I'm going to save this world from the Grimleal. From evil. Crime is like a cancer. It builds and builds on itself and ruins the civilization that hosts it. You can't rehabilitate crime anymore than you can rehabilitate a sickness. Sickness needs to be removed from the body, and crime needs to be removed from civilization."

"You don't get to decide what is evil, and what isn't!"

"That's what the heroes of legend did! They didn't rely on systems to tell them what was right and wrong. They decided for themselves. A strong man fought to better the world, and violently defeated anyone who tried to stop him. Does that not describe Marth or Alm? The great fantasy of history isn't that great men and women were able to change the world themselves, because that did happen. The fantasy is that people could change the world through violence and be kind and noble. Humans are flawed, and humans who devote their lives to violence tend to not be stable. These great heroes were probably capable of horrible things, but history doesn't remember that."

"I can't prove that wrong, Keith, but I know that isn't true. The men and women from legends are remembered as heroes because they were good people."

"No! It's because they were strong. The great masses of the people more easily remember big things than small things, and people remember actions more than thoughts. People remember them for what they did, not for what they thought. If you kill one man, you're a murderer. Kill a hundred and you're a warrior. Kill one hundred thousand and you're a conqueror. For whatever reason, conqueror is considered to be a more positive word than murderer. The heroes of legends conquered! Marth didn't just defeat Medeus, he united the continent. Alm united all of Valm. The First Exalt created the Halidom of Ylisse. These heroes made their own systems. They imposed their will on thousands of people. History remembers them as good people for it. Morality isn't to be passed down by systems and tired old men. It's to be decided by the people. Good can't mean letting psychopaths and tyrants run free. I have the strength to change the world, so I impose my will to stop evil and better the world. I fight to give people a better future. I fight to make sure that no one has to suffer through what I went through. It's what the heroes of legend would have done. It's what Lucina would have done."

Mercer thought about his next words very carefully. He was getting a glimpse of who Keith was, and if he was careful he could try to show Keith what he was really doing to the world. If he wasn't careful he could send him on another rant. "Keith, I know you think that what you're doing is good for the world, but violence needs to be tempered with empathy and restraint. You think you're making the world a better place by killing criminals, but you're no better than they are. You absorb some of their evil and spread it around yourself."

Keith just laughed. "I do what I do out of necessity. This world stinks. It stinks like a sewer. How do you clean a sewer? You wash it out. You don't rehabilitate the stink. Some people just need to be killed. I mean how could you have rehabilitated the Grimleal, or Grima, or Medeus? Besides who are you to talk down to me because I kill people who deserve it? You killed. You devoted your whole life to violence."

"And not a day goes by that I don't regret it. Even then, I didn't kill unless it was necessary. I gave my enemies every chance to surrender or even join us. I showed compassion. Many of the Shepherds were former enemies. We had Plegians, Valmese soldiers, criminals. I gave them a chance to be better. You can't just kill people because they've made mistakes. You don't have the right to make that call. To take a life forever. When someone dies, that's it. You take away everything someone is, and everything they were going to be. You can't say that they deserve to die because of something they did in the past. You shouldn't kill unless it can't be avoided."

"Well your method didn't work did it? You didn't save the world did you? It's time for me to try my way."

Mercer shook his head. He spoke in a soft tone. "Oh Keith, you're a very broken man aren't you?"

"So are you, old man. So are you."

After what felt like hours had passed, Mercer and Keith finally removed the debris from in front of the door and ventured into the rest of the building. Keith used a lantern to light the way as the two crept through the sunken buillding. Mercer never saw a Tunneller, but the bodies of Keith's soldiers had been torn apart. Very few of them were still intact, and each one was stripped to the bone. Something had been in the building at some point.

Finally the two made their way to the prison. To Mercer's horror, he could hear a clanging and banging noise like something was repeatedly attacking a cell. "Ophelia! Soleil!" Mercer's cries made the banging stop. A few seconds later a black mass materialized in front of Mercer so quickly that he fell over in shock. The only reason why the creature didn't spring on Mercer right then was because the light from Keith's lamp made it wince. Keith wasted no time in dispatching the creature, and Mercer got a good look at it. The Tunnellers looked like Risen, but they were shorter and more wiry. Their skin was a sickly blackish purple color. They didn't have glowing red eyes. They almost looked like they didn't have eyes at all. Only on close inspection could Mercer see that the Tunneller did have eyes, but they were milky like the eyes of someone who had gone blind from an injury.

"Mercer?! Please tell me that's you?!" Mercer recognized his biological voice.

"Ophelia! Soleil!" Mercer and Keith went to their cell and Soleil unlocked the door when Keith shone his light over it.

"That thing was banging on the bars for an hour! What the hell happened?!"

"What happened to Southtown happened here. Creatures called Tunnellers dug underneath the city. We have to get out of here. There are hundreds of them outside."

"Well thanks for saving… wait." Soleil squinted at Keith. "What's that saddle-goose doing with you?!"

"He's not one of them, so he's on our side. We have to work together."

Keith stood up straight. "Hello."

"Why don't you go die in a ditch." Soleil replied. Behind her Ophelia slowly rose to her feet.

"Good to see you again, Mercer. I trust you took good care of my body?"

"Not a scratch. Well… your nose might hurt, but otherwise you'll be fine."

Ophelia performed the body switching ritual again. Immediately both Mercer and her screamed. "Gah! My nose!" Ophelia looked down. "Where are my shoes? What's all this armor?"

"My knee! My damn knee!" Mercer grabbed his own knee. "Ah I forgot how much that hurt!"

"Everything in your body hurts, old man… and your beard is itchy."

"Gods how are we going to get out of here?! There are hundreds of those things out there, and my knee is still broken."

"We can call Minerva." Soleil answered. "Ophelia knows a spell that can summon her."

"You're serious?"

Ophelia nodded. "She can dig through the ground. We'll need to be outside though."

Keith started to walk away. "We'd better be quick then. If we're lucky they'll still have bodies to eat."

The four slowly made their way out of the building and into what remained of the city streets. Ophelia closed her eyes, knelt down, and began casting her spell. A massive golden dragon appeared behind her and roared into the air before disappearing. Ophelia continued to be surrounded by a bright golden light. The light was so bright that it illuminated the cavern for hundreds of meters. The cavern was absolutely filled with Tunnellers and corpses. Almost every corpse was completely stripped bare. Most of the Tunnellers were busy jumping in and out of the buildings looking for food. A few of them picked at the bloodied skeletal corpses scattered around the streets. Some of the skeletons were rather small.

"Uh… ah… Ophelia? Don't open your eyes." Soleil stuttered.

"Well when you say that it makes me want to… open… my… eyes." Ophelia vomited. "GODS! SO MANY BODIES!"

The Tunnellers heard her and immediately charged the group. The light from Ophelia's spell kept them away, but the light began to flicker as Ophelia panicked. Soleil grabbed her and blocked her view of the Tunnellers. "Ophelia! Sweetie! Baby! Finish the spell! I know it's horrible. I know it's horrible! You have to finish the spell or they'll attack!"

Ophelia nodded and knelt down again. The light from her spell intensified and the Tunnellers were driven back, but they didn't stop trying to find a way in. One grabbed a piece of debris to shield its eyes and slowly crept up behind Ophelia. Keith noticed and attacked the Tunneller at the last moment. The Tunneller was driven back, but it managed to knock the mask from Keith's face in the grapple. As if driven by spite, the Tunneller swiped the mask and fled into the darkness. Mercer saw the scuffle and immediately threw himself towards Keith. He was too late, and Keith reacted exactly as Mercer knew he would.

"MY **_FAAAAACE_**!"

"Keith!" Mercer yelled for Keith to come back, but Keith ignored him. Keith followed the Tunneller into the shadows, and as soon as he did a dozen Tunnellers followed him. "Keith! Get back here!"

"Just leave him!" Soleil shouted. "Come on, Ophelia!"

Once again Minerva appeared just in time. The wyvern burrowed its way through the dirt and landed in front of the hordes of Tunnellers. Soleil helped Mercer on and then quickly mounted Minerva herself. Ophelia rose to her feet and Soleil pulled her up. "What about Keith?" Ophelia exclaimed.

"Who cares!" Soleil responded. She kicked Minerva repeatedly with her foot. "Takeofftakeofftakeofftakeofftakeoff!" Minerva roared and ascended into the sky, leaving the Tunnellers and Veslil behind.

* * *

Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil eventually had Minerva land on the top of a mesa. Soleil and Mercer began to set up camp as soon as they dismounted, but Ophelia immediately walked towards the edge of the cliff. Soleil and Mercer called to her, but she ignored them. She walked closer to the edge until she made them nervous, and then she sat down with her feet dangling over the cliff. She didn't move again after that.

"Is, is she okay?" Mercer asked Soleil. She shrugged.

"She's never seen violence like that, Mercer. An entire city gone. I'll talk to her." Soleil paused. "But… she does think a lot of you. Maybe she'd appreciate it if you talked to her."

Mercer nodded and walked towards Ophelia. Ophelia didn't turn her head as he approached. "You're uh… you're a little close to the edge there, Ophelia." Ophelia didn't respond at all. She sat completely still. On closer inspection, Mercer noticed that her head was bobbing around, to the point that she seemed to be spasming slightly. "Ophelia?" Mercer walked closer to her. Still she didn't react to him. She just looked aimlessly off into the horizon, her head involuntarily shaking back and forth like she was in a slow shiver. Mercer sat beside her at the edge of the cliff, and Ophelia immediately buried her head in his arm and shivered violently. Mercer almost instinctively hugged her and rocked her back and forth.

"So much death, Mercer." Ophelia stated in a shocked tone. Mercer never realized how much energy Ophelia put into what she said until he heard her voice in a flat tone like this. "I've never seen so much death. Hundreds of people. Dead everywhere. They were everywhere. So much death."

"Hey come on." Mercer almost whispered. "It's alright."

Ophelia broke down completely. She gripped Mercer as tightly as she could and bawled into his shirt. Mercer almost cried out from how tightly she was grabbing him. "THEY WERE EATING THEM! How?! How can something so horrible happen?!" Ophelia sobbed uncontrollably into Mercer. "They're all gone! A whole town! Children! Elderly! EATEN! LIKE INSECTS! HUMAN BEINGS!"

"Hey, hey. Shh. It's okay. It's over now. I've got you."

"But they're gone, Mercer! THEY'RE ALL GONE!"

"There's nothing we can do now. It's alright. It's alright."

For several minutes Mercer and Ophelia sat there holding each other. Mercer slowly rocked Ophelia back and forth, keeping a calm rhythm even as Ophelia shivered and spasmed in his arms, and slowly Ophelia got a hold of herself. When she finally stopped crying, the two just held each other until Ophelia could speak calmly again. "Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why doesn't this bother you? All those people?"

"I've seen death before. I've seen it many times before. You get used to it. It's horrible, and it's not right, but it's what happens. It doesn't affect you anymore. It's normal to react this way though, Ophelia. I'd be more worried if you didn't feel like this. I've gone through what you're going through."

"R-really?"

"Yes." Mercer collected himself. "When Lucina was born, I couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen." Mercer smiled, but it was a kind of quiet, melancholy smile. "I remember holding her for the first time. She had this goofy expression on her face and a silly smile. She wrapped her tiny little hand around my finger and gripped it as tightly as she could, which wasn't very tightly at all, and I remember thinking to myself, 'How could something this beautiful come from me?' The other Shepherds were there. They smiled warmly at me. They were so happy for me. Oh gods. I was struggling as hard as I could to not break down crying. She was so beautiful. How could… how could she have come from me? How could someone so perfect come from me?" Mercer had to let go of Ophelia. He put his hand around his mouth and struggled to not break down crying in the present. "So when the other Lucina died… oh gods. I remember finding her body. She was soaked in blood. My baby. She… she had no gods-damned arms! She had no arms! She was looking up at me, but she wasn't moving. Her eyes were listless." Mercer was silent for almost a minute. "I just shut down. I didn't think anything. I didn't feel anything. I just shut down. There was nobody there for me, Ophelia. I was all alone." Mercer hugged his grandniece again. "But I'm here for you now." The two went back to holding each other and silently looking out over the horizon.

Eventually Mercer got up, and with Ophelia's assurance that she would be okay, he went to go to Soleil. He found her having some kind of seizure by the camp. "Gaah! Mercer! A little privacy?!"

"What were you doing? Was that some kind of demon summoning ritual?"

"What?! No! I was just practicing my dancing."

"That wasn't any kind of dancing I'm familiar with."

"I've heard it all before, Mercer. Everyone has to be a critic. That's why I practice alone."

"So you like to dance?"

"Yeah. I always have. I'm not very good at it, but I've always wanted to learn."

Mercer smiled faintly. "I know where you get that from."

"Hmm?"

"Your father and grandmother both loved to dance."

"R-really?"

"Yeah. Inigo was shy about it, but he was very good. Your grandmother Olivia-" Mercer paused as his mind flashed back to her. "She was… she was amazing. She had no problem making a living from it. You… well at least you inherited their spirit."

"Uh thanks, I guess."

"Anyways I just came here to check on you. Ophelia is taking all this pretty hard. I guess it doesn't bother you if you're just dancing away?"

Soleil finally stopped the uncoordinated fumbling she tried to pass off as dancing and sighed. "Look I may be young but that doesn't mean I haven't seen some things. Let's just say this isn't the first time I've seen Risen. This isn't even the first time I've seen Risen eat people. I doubt I've seen as much pain as you have in your life Mercer, but I've seen some horrible things. There isn't much we could run into that would faze me anymore." Soleil looked up at Mercer. "Ophelia though… she's something of a princess. Her heart is in the right place. She wants to be a hero and she wants to protect the world. She just hasn't seen hardship like us. Life has thrown its fair share of problems at her, but she hasn't seen things like… that before. Mercer, please protect her."

"I'll protect both of you."

"No! No that's, that's not what I meant. She needs it more. She's more important than me. If she dies then there won't be anyone to perform the Awakening ritual. She needs protecting more than me."

"Soleil! Don't talk like that."

"If something happens, and you have to choose between one of us, choose her. I… I can't let anything happen to her."

"Soleil… do you have… feelings for Ophelia?"

"Well I… I certainly don't mind that outfit of hers."

Mercer frowned. "Hey! That's my grandniece you're talking about."

"Err… oh."

"I'm joking!"

"Ah you got me, old man! I didn't think you had it in you." Soleil sat down on the hard regolith deprived surface of the badlands and rested. "No. Ophelia and I are just friends, and that's really a more meaningful relationship for me. I've had flings before, but not many friends. Before I met Ophelia I never really had someone to always be there for me before. To fight by my side no matter what before. Without Ophelia… I don't know what I'd do.

"What about Caeldori?"

"If you'd asked me that question a week ago I wouldn't have thought much of her. Guess you don't know what you have until it's gone huh?"

"We'll find her, Soleil."

"What about afterwards, Mercer? What will you do then?"

"Well…"

"You want to go home don't you?"

"Well… yeah."

"Ophelia thinks the world of you, you know. She fell in love with those stories Tiki told us. She thinks you're the best hope for saving the world."

"I'm not like that anymore, Soleil."

"Let me finish." Soleil took a deep breath. "I'm not saying this to be mean, Mercer. I'm just telling the truth. Ophelia thinks that your grumpy old man act is just that. An act. She thinks that underneath that rough exterior is the hero that Tiki told her about. She's right about your grumpy old man act, but underneath that rough exterior isn't a hero. Underneath you're a tortured and emotionally fragile man struggling beneath decades of pain and loss." Mercer tried to respond, but he was stunned. He couldn't bring himself to make any kind of noise. "The hero that Ophelia desperately wants is gone, isn't he? I know you don't believe in our cause. I know you just want to live the rest of your life in peace. I know you do want nothing more than to die." Soleil looked Mercer right in the eye. "But Ophelia was right when she was talking to you on Minerva's back. You do still have your love for people. You seemed to care for Conrad. You helped free me. You're helping us find Caeldori. None of us, not even Tiki, has a right to ask anything of you. What I'm trying to say is… is that I'm grateful for the help you've given us. You don't owe us anything. When you leave us, Ophelia is going to be devastated… but I won't look down on you. There's nothing wrong with wanting to live out the rest of your life quietly." Mercer thought about what Soleil said in silence. Her expression made it clear that she really cared for Mercer. He couldn't help but smile warmly back at her. Soleil seemed confused. "You're… you're not angry with me?"

"No. What you said is true. Everything you said is true. Chrom is dead. Tiki won't see it, and Ophelia won't see it… but he's dead. I'm glad you see it." Mercer sat by Soleil and placed his arm around her. "But I'm not going to leave you girls. Not yet. I don't believe in your cause. I don't think the world can be fixed. I won't leave you though. If you need my help, then I'll stand with you. I'll help you find Caeldori. I'll help keep you all safe. I would… I would like nothing more than for you girls to just give up. Start families. Live a life of peace while you still can. You might think in your youth that you should be out there fighting but I promise you, I _promise_ you, that it doesn't make you feel fulfilled. Everyday I wake up with old war wounds talking to me. I live alone because my lifestyle got my family killed. I go to sleep with the faces of the men and women I've killed still looking at me. Violence ruins people, Soleil. It ruined me. If I could do it again, I would have lead. I would have taken the throne after Emmeryn was injured. I would have spent more time with my wife. I would have raised my children. I would have helped the people. I am a failure, and now I want nothing more than to have the things I took for granted back then." Mercer looked warmly at Soleil. "Against my better judgement, I've grown to care for you girls. You're all I have. I would like for you girls to be safe. I'd like for you to stop fighting but… if you won't… I guess I'll just have to protect you myself."

Soleil smiled back, and it didn't seem like the smile she forced herself to carry at all times. This one was heartfelt. "Thank you, old man. Ophelia will ask a lot of you. She'll want to be trained with the Falchion. She'll want to be able to perform the Awakening ritual. She'll want you to lead. Me? I'm just glad you're here at all. Nobody has any right to ask anything of you."

Mercer patted Soleil on the back and rose to his feet. "Come on. Let's go see if Ophelia is feeling any better." Mercer watched as Soleil stood up. "And Soleil?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll find Caeldori. I promise."


	9. The Prince's Failures

With no other leads on where Caeldori or Tiki had gone, Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil flew back to Mercer's town. Mercer figured that Tiki would surely meet them there, and they could then look for Caeldori. Mercer also needed time to recover from his injury, and he still very much wanted his damn drink.

The three were only able to rest at Mercer's homestead for about an hour before they encountered visitors. Like the other people who had been looking for Mercer in the past few days, they were unwelcome. These people were not strangers, however.

"Mercer!" Ophelia shouted as she ran into the living room. "You need to see this!"

Mercer was deeply enjoying his chair, and his injured leg was propped up. He silently pleaded with Ophelia to let him rest, but she didn't relent. "Oh, what? What is it now?"

"You have to see this!"

Reluctantly Mercer got up and walked outside. Once on his porch he saw Soleil looking uneasily at a gathered crowd of people. Almost everyone in Mercer's town had gathered outside of his house, and they brandished torches and pitchforks. As soon as someone noticed Mercer, he turned to the rest of the mob and pointed at him. "There he is!" The man howled. The crowd roared and charged at Mercer's house in a frenzy. Soleil instinctively stepped back, but Mercer charged forward. He stepped to the edge of his porch and frantically waved his arms around.

"W-what are you doing? What is this? What is this?!"

A man stepped out from the crowd. "Chrom!" He shouted. Mercer froze. He was beginning to figure out why the townspeople were here. In an instant his confusion turned to fear as the horrible realization of what was happening dawned on him.

"What did you just call me?" Mercer asked. He was unsure of his words even as he said them, and he ended up almost whispering.

"We know your secret you blue blooded prick! How dare you! How dare you live among us! You think you can be normal?! You think you can live a normal life?! You should have died thirty years ago with the rest of your kind!" The crowd raised their weapons and roared in agreement.

"W-why are you doing this to me? I haven't bothered any of you? I've lived here peacefully for twenty years!"

"You hid this from us! You had no right! The Grimleal want your head! They've been looking for you for thirty years! To live in our town like this, you put a target on all of us. They could raze the whole town just to find you! You've endangered us all!" The crowd once more went into an uproar. "And you killed Courtney and his lieutenants! You think that won't bring them here?" A woman shouted. "We ought to bring them your head! That's the only way we can make sure they won't come after the rest of us!" Another man roared.

"Please! I've never done anything to you people!"

"You're putting us all in danger by living here, so you can't stay here. We're giving you until next morning to pack up your things and leave. If we come back here tomorrow, and you're still here, we'll tie you to four different horses and bring your remains to the Grimleal to prove that we didn't help you. You put all of us at risk! You're lucky we don't kill you now!"

Mercer desperately looked to the people of the crowd. Not everyone was as angry as the lead man, but no one gave him any sympathy. "You-you all can't be serious?!"

A teenaged boy ran forward with a flaming object in his hand. "How's this for serious?!" The boy threw the object at Mercer's house, and it erupted into flame as it hit his wall. Mercer was too stunned to react, but Ophelia quickly drew her Missiletainn tome and extinguished the flames with a blast of icy wind. The crowd responded to the boy's unprovoked cruelty with mocking laughter. Soleil reached for her blade, but Mercer stuck his arm out in front of her.

"Get out of here, old man!" The lead man shouted. "This is your only warning." With that the crowd dispersed back towards the town. Soleil and Ophelia were shaking with anger, but Mercer just stood with a blank look on his face. Long after the townspeople were no longer in view, Mercer continued to stare off into nothing. Ophelia and Soleil tried nudging him back inside, but Mercer wouldn't budge.

"Come on, Mercer!" Soleil said as she waved her hand in front of him. "We have to do something! Let's go after them! Maybe we could start packing? We have to do something! Don't just stand there!"

"Twenty years." Mercer said in an emotionless tone.

"What?"

"Twenty years. That's how long I've been in this town. Twenty years. I've put twenty years into my life here. Now it's all gone."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ophelia asked in a gentle tone. Mercer didn't respond. He just slowly walked off his porch and onto the ground. Ophelia was about to walk after him when Mercer stopped and produced an absolutely primal howl of rage that seemed to be directed at the whole world. Soleil and Ophelia stopped dead in their tracks, and a chill ran down Ophelia's spine. Mercer's almost feral rage at life itself lasted several seconds, and when he finally stopped shouting he drew his Falchion and furiously hacked away at the air. He swung and swung, a piercing shout accentuating each swing, before throwing the Falchion back at his house. He then beat at the ground with his fists for several seconds before rising to his feet and unleashing one last shriek of all consuming hatred, a hatred that he seemed to direct at the whole universe. When Mercer turned back to Ophelia and Soleil, he found them stuck in a stunned fear of him. Mercer looked back towards the town, and fell over unconscious.

* * *

Mercer woke up in his bed with Ophelia looking down at him. She gave a warm smile. "Hey." Mercer tried to get up, but a sharp pain in his chest forced him back down.

"Ah! Ah, gah. Ow. What, what happened?"

"You tell me? You were enraged for awhile, then you passed out. We had to drag you back inside."

"I think he's just getting old. His heart can't take it anymore." A masculine voice said. Mercer thought he recognized it, but it sounded too good to be true.

"D-Donald?"

The town bartender smiled at Mercer as he stepped over him. "Hello, Chrom."

"Please tell me it wasn't you."

"No! No. I kept your secret. I've always kept your secret. I don't know how the town found out. I'm sorry, Chrom. I'm so sorry. I tried to talk them out of it. I'm probably the only reason why they're giving you a chance to leave. They're scared. They're afraid that the Grimleal will destroy the town for letting you stay here. Gods you shouldn't have killed Courtney. You should have just ignored that kid's death. None of this would have happened."

"You're right, Donald." Mercer sighed. "You're right." Donald hugged Mercer. At first Mercer was shocked by it, but slowly emotions he'd been keeping inside since he saw Conrad's body came flooding out. "It's all wrong, Donald! Everything's wrong! The world! My life! It's all wrong! My kids! My parents! My wife! Gods! Where did I go wrong?!"

"Hey, hey come on now."

"I know I shouldn't have gone after Courtney, but I just wanted to fix things! I just wanted to make things right! There's no damn justice in this world so once, just once, I wanted to make some. I can't deserve this!" Mercer was fighting back tears at this point. "I can't deserve this!"

"If anything, it's this town that doesn't deserve you." Donald patted Mercer on the shoulder and handed him a bottle. "I wish I could do more for you. Really, I do. I can do this though. You deserve this."

Mercer took the bottle from Donald. It was a bottle of ale. "Donald! How much is this worth?!"

"Nowadays? 900 gold."

"I can't take this from you!"

"Yes, damnit yes you can! It's the least I can do!" Mercer and Donald gazed into each other's eyes for a few seconds, each knowing that their time together had ended. "Please take it, Mercer. Please take it."

"You're a good friend, Donald. Thank you."

"You're a good friend too, Chrom. You're a good man. You're a hero. I know you don't think much of yourself anymore, but you are a good man. You deserve much better than this world. I'm so glad I was able to meet you." Donald turned to Ophelia. "Take good care of your great uncle, huh kid?"

"I will."

Donald looked at Mercer one last time. "Goodbye, Chrom."

Mercer looked solemnly at the bottle of ale as Donald left. Ophelia gently took it from him. "Well should we open it? I'm sure Donald can stay awhile longer."

"No. Let's just… let's just pack."

"You're really leaving?"

"You saw that mob."

"You don't have to be intimidated by them. We can-"

"NO!" Mercer took a deep breath. "No. Those people are just scared. We're not hurting them. They're just looking out for their families." Mercer forced himself out of bed and rose to his feet. "Come on. Let's start packing."

Mercer's house was full of junk, but Mercer reassured Ophelia that it was extra material he had scavenged. The only things he actually considered to be his possessions were in a small chest he kept hidden under a floorboard. Mercer pried off the board and lifted the chest up. Inside were only a few items. Ophelia noticed that Mercer froze when he opened up the chest, and she realized that the items probably sent memories flooding back to him. Ever since the crowd had forced Mercer to leave the town, Ophelia had wanted to make him feel better, but she really didn't know what to say. Now Ophelia figured that talking about the memories Mercer was reliving could be a way to help him. Ophelia always liked having someone to listen to her. If it could help Mercer, then there was no harm in trying. Ophelia's eyes were drawn to the Falchion sheathed by his side. When Ophelia had first seen it, it was covered with dust and cobwebs. It really looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Now though Mercer wielded it like he'd never stopped using it. "Mercer?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you keep the Falchion? You said you swore never to use a sword again after the Shepherds fell, and it seems like such a painful reminder of your old life. Why keep it at all?"

Mercer sighed. "This sword has been passed down by my family for over two thousand years. I regret ever picking up this sword. I regret ever becoming some gods-damned militia leader instead of following in Emmeryn's footsteps. I have no right to give it up though. I'd be dishonoring my ancestors if I did that. So I keep it."

"But you were going to go on a one man rampage against the Grimleal until they killed you. You would have lost the sword then."

"That was different."

"What was different about it?"

"I'd be dead."

Ophelia recognized when Mercer was getting grim. She quickly decided to change the subject. "Tell me about your family. Tell me about your parents." Ophelia quickly grimaced, and Mercer noticed.

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that your parents died when you were young. I didn't want to bring up any painful memories."

"No it's fine. I can't tell you much though. I was very young when they died. I don't remember much of my mother. Just feelings really. Blonde hair, like Emmeryn and Lissa's. Blue eyes. The scent of flowers. Gods. I can't even remember her name." Mercer looked down. "I remember more of my father though. He was a cruel, demanding, and sometimes abusive man. If I ever did anything to make him proud though, he would shower me with praise. For a second, a moment, I would feel closer to him. Even as a child I knew that as bad as he could be, Emmeryn got it much worse. I think he actually resented her. He saw his legacy in me. He was so happy when I said I wanted to take up the Falchion. He knew that I could carry on his legacy of war and fighting, a legacy that Emmeryn didn't want anything to do with. I would be his successor." Mercer stared off into space, a solemn look taking his eyes. "Once by coincidence, a soldier was being arrested by guards when my father and I were walking through the palace courtyard. The soldier had been trying to steal weapons from the armory. He told a story about how he was just trying to feed his starving family for all to hear, but the guards didn't care. The standard punishment for stealing under my father was to lose a finger. The guards stopped when my father went by though. They waited to see if my father wanted to decide the man's fate personally. He looked at me, a horrible look in his eyes, and he took out a knife and gave it to me. He told me to carry out the punishment. He told me that I would have to enforce the laws of Ylisse one day, and that I had to learn sometime. I thought it was some kind of cruel joke, but the guards took it seriously. They actually forced the man's hand down and held out the man's finger. I… I threw the knife away." Mercer shook his head. "My father was infuriated. He drew the Falchion and drove it into the soldier's skull. Right in front of me. He told me that when I had to protect Ylisse, I couldn't be weak. He told me I had to learn sometime. He stormed off, and I didn't see him for the rest of the day. I was only five years old!" Mercer looked back to his Falchion. "I regret ever picking this thing up… but I can't get rid of it now. I can't dishonor my ancestors. Still… it disgusts me to think about how many people have fallen on its blade. How many people did my father kill with it? How many did his parents? How many did all the conquering Exalts kill? Emmeryn was right to not want anything to do with it."

"Why do you talk so dismissively about being the leader of the Shepherds? Maybe you couldn't save the world then, but that doesn't mean you didn't do good. You defeated Walhart and Gangrel. Do you really think you could have done that with pacifism?"

"You're not seeing the big picture, Ophelia. Sometimes you might find yourself in a situation where violence is the only way out, but even then you may not be justified in using violence because the situation might have been of your own creation. Without violence I couldn't have defeated Gangrel and Plegia, but the only reason why we had to fight Plegia at all was because of violence. If my father hadn't waged his crusade against Plegia, then Plegia wouldn't have hated Ylisse and Gangrel never could have risen to power. Violence breeds violence. If my father had been like Emmeryn, then we never would have had to fight against Plegia." Mercer shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say. "When I was alone with Keith back in Veslil, he told me that the heroes of legend were probably terrible people. They lead very violent and traumatic lives after all. They are remembered as heroes not because of who they were, but because of what they did. I don't know if I would agree that they weren't good people, but he's right about why we remember them. People remember them as heroes because of their actions, and people remember their violent actions more than the rest of their lives. Alm and Celica united Valm and ushered in a new age of peace for the continent, but people remember them more for kicking butt." Mercer had a contempt in his voice as he said the last words. "Alm's legacy created a fetishzation of violence in Valmese society. It lead to men like Walhart trying to follow in Alm's legacy without understanding the context of it. Walhart knew that Alm dedicated his life to fighting, but he didn't understand why. Walhart knew that Alm fought against gods, but he didn't understand why. Walhart knew that Alm united the continent, but he didn't understand why. He was inspired by the violence, so he became some mass murdering tyrant in the name of a hero that was nothing like that. Marth has this too. The Hero King united the continent, but people remember him more for fighting against Medeus. The First Exalt of Ylisse has this bad. He created the Halidom of Ylisse, but people mainly remember him for defeating Grima. Nobody even remembers his name, but everyone knows that he defeated Grima. Why does our society idolize violence so much?"

"You look down on the heroes of legend for fighting?"

"No. Of course not. They didn't have a choice. I just don't see why their legacies are remembered mostly for all the time they spent kickin' rear." Mercer answered bitterly. "It only inspires young people to go out and get themselves killed, or become monsters. Almost anyone who experiences war can tell you how horrible it is, but for some reason people are quick to glorify it when there's no emotional connection to the violence. When the war is 'somewhere else' or 'a long time ago', then it's an epic adventure. When it actually happens to you, it's nightmarish. The way our society glorifies warriors, people never realize how horrible it is until it happens."

"So you… you really wish you could have been more like Emmeryn?"

"Yes. The happiest moments of my life were with my parents, my sisters, my wife, my children, and my friends. I was never happy when fighting, or killing, or leading. I made a lot of friends along the way sure, but it was in spite of my violent lifestyle, not because of it. My violent lifestyle got them all killed."

"What… what about Grima? How could pacifism possibly defeat Grima?"

Mercer sighed. "It couldn't, but that's not what I'm trying to say. It's not that violence is never necessary. It's that we shouldn't idolize it. We shouldn't glorify it. Emmeryn didn't completely disband the military. If I had followed in her footsteps, then I could have directed an entire war effort. I could have done so much more than lead, what, forty people around?"

Ophelia was very nervous about what Mercer might say to her, but she had to ask. "What about me, Mercer? How do you feel about my fight against the Grimleal?"

"It's pointless." Mercer responded without any hesitation. "The Grimleal's power is infinite. Nothing you do can change anything. Just live a normal life while you still can."

"It's not impossible you know! It's not! All we'd have to do is perform the Awakening ritual, then kill Grima with the Exalted Falchion. Grima would be dead for at least a thousand years, and the people would rise up against the Grimleal then!"

"As I grow older I've found that young people easily fall in love with ideas, but they don't think or care about how difficult it is enact those ideas. An idea has no merit if it's only ever going to exist in your head. How could you get past the thousands of Grimleal soldiers? How could you kill Grima?"

"You could help us!"

"I'm not helping you!" Mercer snapped. He took deep breaths and calmed himself before he said anything else. "I'll help you find Caeldori, but then I'm going home."

"But you don't have a home anymore?" Ophelia didn't realize how cruel that sounded until she said it. She only wanted to convince Mercer to stay, and she could tell that Mercer took her words pretty hard. "Wait! No! I-I didn't mean it like that!"

"I'll find something. I am a survivor. I don't want to be, but I am a survivor."

Once again Ophelia wanted to change the subject. She looked down as Mercer opened up his chest. Inside were a number of small items. The largest was a short sword. "Do the items in your chest all have stories?"

Mercer looked back to his chest of possessions. "Yeah." He smiled at Ophelia. "Each one has a story. Pick them out and I'll tell them to you."

Ophelia was relieved that Mercer was friendly again. She tried to pick out the item that would bring up the least painful memories, but it was impossible to tell. Given the things that Mercer had seen in his life, any of the items could have brought up horrible emotions. Ophelia decided to point to what looked like baby clothes. "What are those?"

"Those are clothes Lucina bought for her mother."

"W-what? These are for infants?"

"Yeah. My wife told me the story. Let me see if I can recall it properly." Mercer thought for a second. "Lucina wanted to buy her a gift, but it became clear that the two had very different fashion styles. Lucina ended up buying her mother baby clothes for her younger self. I… I don't remember why I had them when they both died, but now I couldn't part with them. They remind me of both of them." Ophelia grimaced again. Her attempt to bring up positive memories for Mercer had completely failed, and again Mercer noticed. "It's okay, Ophelia. Everything in here is going to bring up some unpleasant memories for me, but I'm fine with telling you these stories. Pick something else out."

Ophelia pointed at a ring. "Is that your wedding ring?"

Mercer smiled. "Yes. I can't part with that."

"Would you like to talk about you wife?"

Mercer's smile faded. "No."

Ophelia pointed at a book. She picked it up and dusted off the cover. "A Tale of Fates. What's this?"

"Let's see if I remember. That's a fairy tale about two kingdoms called Hoshido and Nohr. They were always at war until a hero related to both royal families managed to end the fighting."

"Did that really happen?"

"No. No, no. That crap is made up. When I was young, there wasn't anyone who hadn't heard the fairy tale. My nana used to read that to me when I was little. She raised me when my mother and father were busy, and she continued to raise me after they died. She and Emmeryn parented me more than my actual parents did."

Ophelia looked to the last two items in the chest. She pointed to another book. "What's that?"

"That's a book Robin wrote. It's full of tactics and maps and unit positions. Robin used that when we were planning battles, and he wrote it in frequently."

"Were you and Robin very close."

"Yes." Mercer was silent for almost a minute. "I've never known a greater man in my life. To have him by my side, and to have my sisters, children, and wife there also, I… I couldn't ever imagine that I would be that happy. Of course it was too good to last."

"Did you ever learn that Robin was the Hierophant before the Shepherds fell?"

"Yes, but it didn't change how I felt at all. Robin was one of us. No destiny was going to change that. Lucina didn't feel the same way though. I thought the two of them were so close. I thought everyone was so close. I thought that fighting against Grima really did unite us. When Lucina tried to do what she did…" Mercer shook his head. "It factionalized us. From then on there were murmurings and whispers in the camp. Some people tried to tell me that our time traveling children could no longer be trusted. Who knows what they said about Lucina behind my back. She ruined our unity, but she thought she was doing the right thing. Walhart thought he was doing the right thing. My father thought he was doing the right thing. It's not enough to think you're doing the right thing. Violence must be tempered with empathy and restraint. Never forget that."

Ophelia quickly pointed at something else to change the subject. The last item in Mercer's chest was the short sword. "What's that?"

Mercer smiled fondly. The memories the sword brought back to him seemed much less traumatic. "Oh that's Donald's old sword."

"The bartender?

"Yes. When I first met him almost twenty years ago, he was a mercenary. Well actually, he was really a brigand."

"Really?!"

"I was scavenging when I came across a caravan being held up by a group of brigands. They were threatening to take away the children and do horrible things to the young men and women. I couldn't just stand there. I confronted them. All I had on me was a dagger, but I couldn't just do nothing."

"What happened?"

"I accused them of being slavers, and I desperately called out to them to see that what they were doing was wrong. I knew the leaders wouldn't listen, they're always hardened people, but I thought that I could convince the younger members. The ones who hadn't had their empathy worn away by years of doing what they do. The ones who were just in it for the money. One man seemed to listen to me. He didn't turn on his comrades. All he did was drop his sword, but I guess the leader was afraid of his men listening to me because he had everyone turn on that man as soon as he dropped his sword. I couldn't let him get hurt because of me, so I charged in there. I don't know how we got out of there, but we did. At some point the brigands stopped fighting and fled. The other man stayed behind. We've been friends ever since."

"That was Donald?"

"Yeah. The people of the caravan were very grateful. They offered us a lot of money. I couldn't take anything from those people, but Donald accepted without a second thought. I told him he had no right to do that just because he didn't let himself be a monster. We got into an argument, and in the end Donald promised to use the money to do good for the people in the area. He said he'd open a business, and he gave me that sword to proove that he was done with his old life. He ended up opening that bar, and we've been in this town since then. He's about the only person I've really gotten close to since… since it happened." Mercer smiled at Ophelia. "Well and you two, of course."

"Why did you tell him who you were?"

Mercer thought about it. "Donald has some stories. He told me that he was actually born in Valm. In fact, he was born in the same village Walhart himself was born in. He joined Walhart's army and was part of the force Walhart sent into Ferox. He was one of the enemy soldiers the Shepherds fought against when we went to protect Ferox. He said that when the fighting got close to him, he panicked. He said he was attacked by a red haired woman with, in his words, 'a freakin' winged horse'. He played dead, waited for everyone to leave, then ran away. He's been in this continent ever since. We started talking about the Shepherds and… that's when I told him. I guess I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone to hear my pain. I'd been completely alone for so long. I needed someone. Donald has kept my secret. He's been a good friend." Mercer sighed. "I don't deserve people like him in my life anymore."

Again Ophelia wanted to change the subject, but there wasn't anything else in Mercer's chest. "You may not think much of yourself Mercer, but you mean a lot to us. To me." Ophelia tried to give a warm smile. "Thank you coming this far with us, and thank you for talking about these memories with me. I feel closer to you now."

Even after all the pain he had just relived, Mercer smiled himself. "You know? Talking about them makes me feel a little better. Thank you for listening, Ophelia."

The moment of serenity was suddenly obliterated by an ear shattering scream from Soleil, and an even more agonized howl from some kind of beast. Mercer and Ophelia got up and ran back into the main room. Soleil had climbed onto the top of the couch and clung to it for dear life. Below her a flaming creature of some kind ran back and forth in a confused bout of terror. The poor animal shrieked at the top of its lungs as it crashed into furniture and jumped around in a desperate attempt to relieve itself of its agony, and it spread fire throughout the room as it did so. Mercer ran back into his bedroom and retrieved the Falchion. He chased the terrified animal across the house and ended its misery as quickly as he could. He wasn't proud of it, but there was no other way to save the animal, and at this point the animal had caused considerable damage to his house. Ophelia used her Missiletainn to extinguish the fires before using it on the animal's corpse. When the flames were finally out, Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil gathered around to see that the animal had been a pig.

"Oh my gods!" Mercer exclaimed. "What the hell was that?!"

"Who could have done this?!" Ophelia cried out.

Soleil just knelt beside the body and took a whiff. "Mmm. Pork."

"How can you be thinking about food at a time like this?!" Ophelia yelled. Soleil just smiled even wider than usual.

"I'm sorry. It just smells good. It's seared up nice and juicy." Soleil inspected the corpse more carefully. "It's looks like someone coated this poor pig with resin and set it on fire. This poor guy would have ran around all over the place to get away from the pain, so he couldn't have ended up in your house unless whoever did this drove him here. I'm sure they're still nearby."

The three were so distracted by the pig that they didn't notice a very large and heavily armored man casually stroll into Mercer's house. Before Mercer could turn around, the man kicked Ophelia in the back. Ophelia crumpled to the ground, unmoving. Everything was happening so quickly that Soleil barely had time to draw her sword before the figure was on her too. She narrowly avoided a strike to her head and stabbed the man through his right arm. The man didn't wince at all, and the blade felt like it was lodged into wood. Soleil realized she couldn't pull it out.

"My turn!" The man roared in a raspy and brutish voice. He struck Soleil in the head with his right arm; the man apparently completely unaffected by the sword impaled in him. Soleil went down hard. She didn't move anymore either. By this point Mercer finally retrieved his Falchion and confronted the man. The man was wearing a rudimentary black suit of tactical gear fashioned from leather and segmented plate armor over black mage robes. The man's face was obscured by a mask reminiscent of a skull. On closer inspection the man was missing his right hand. His right arm ended in a socket of some kind, and a gauntlet was fitted over the socket. The end of the gauntlet was like the end of some war hammer. The man stared right at Mercer. Though the mask the man was wearing had very small eye holes, Mercer could still see an intense expression grip the man's face. "There you are you son of a whore! Oh I've wanted to see you again!"

The man charged at Mercer and furiously struck at him with his gauntlet on his right arm, and brass knuckles on his left hand. Despite having a weapon, Mercer was taken back by the sheer ferocity of the attack. The man's gauntlet hit incredibly hard. Each punch Mercer took was like a shield bash. The man managed to force Mercer into an awkward position and then knock the Falchion from his hands. With another punch to the chest from the man's gauntlet, Mercer was sent flying to the ground. The man would have struck him again had an icy blast of wind not hit him in the back. The man shrugged off the blast and turned to see Ophelia with her Missiletainn tome. "Mercer!" She called out. She unleashed another icy blast of wind at the man, but he tanked the blast. He pulled out an arcfire tome with his left hand.

"Bad girl! You get a spanking!" The man unleashed a stream of fire at Ophelia, blasting her backwards into a wall. The man quickly turned and blasted Mercer as he charged the man in a fit of rage. Mercer was forced back by the heat, but he didn't give up. The man put away the tome and drew a levin sword. He removed his gauntlet and wedged the sword into the socket on his arm before taking his tome again. "Ready for round two, Chrom?!"

"Who are you?! Why are you doing this?!"

"You don't recognize little ol' me?" The man removed his mask to reveal a badly scarred and deformed face. The man's face was almost wavy and warped with deformations caused by bad electrical burns. The man was also missing his right ear. Despite the severity of the man's injuries, Mercer could still recognize the face.

"C-Courtney?!"

"You burned me, tore out some of my hair, and cut off my right ear and forearm! Still, I think I look good, all things considered."

"No! No, no, no! You're dead!"

" _Obviously not_ you blue haired, blue blooded prick. You have a bad track record for killing important people. You thought you killed Gangrel, but you didn't. You thought you killed Walhart, but you didn't. You thought you killed Aversa, but you didn't. You thought you killed me, _but you didn't._ " Courtney put his mask back on and made lightning arc from his levin sword. "I'm going to cut off your ears! See how you like it!" Courtney charged at Mercer, firing blasts of fire from his tome as he did. Mercer managed to avoid the blasts and grabbed his Falchion. He parried as Courtney slashed at him with his sword, but the electricity from the levin sword jumped into his body. Mercer screamed in pain as the current flowed through his body, and Courtney held the sword there, knowing that it was causing Mercer agony. Mercer willed himself through the pain and slashed off Courtney's wooden forearm, depriving him of his sword. He then slashed Courtney across the chest and kicked him away. Courtney's armor was able to save him, but the attack still left him stunned. He stumbled backwards and Mercer menacingly walked towards him. "Alright, alright! You beat me fair and square! Unfortunately for you, I ain't playing fair no more." Courtney raised his left arm towards Soleil's unconscious body.

"Wait!" Mercer exclaimed. Suddenly all of his anger was replaced with panic. He couldn't imagine something happening to Soleil. The fear of it made all of his determination melt away.

"Drop the sword or I'll fry her up nice and crispy!"

"N-NO! Please no! STOP!"

"Drop the sword!"

Mercer dropped the sword and fell to his knees. He knew that Courtney couldn't be trusted, and he knew that he was actually defeated and desperate, but the fear of something happening to Soleil was crushing. It overwhelmed him, and all he wanted to do was keep Soleil safe. "Please! I surrender! Stop it, Courtney! Stop!"

Courtney walked over to Mercer and kicked him in the face, almost breaking his nose. Courtney retrieved his levin sword with his left hand and held it to Mercer as he struggled back up. "Oh this would be so sweet. Sadly I was told to bring you back to The Rockpile alive. Nobody ever leaves The Rockpile though, so you might as well be dead." Courtney sheathed his sword and put away his tome. He equipped his brass knuckles in his left hand again. "You have to wake up again, so I'd better get all my beating in quickly. I wouldn't want to break you."

The last thing Mercer could remember was desperately looking up to see if Ophelia and Soleil were okay while Courtney punched and stomped him until he blacked out.

* * *

Deep within The Rockpile, Inquisitor Altman drew a tome and fired a blast of magical energy into the air. The blast paused in flight and suspended itself in the center of the room. From the magical energy materialized a humanoid figure. Slowly but surely the image became more and more clear, until finally a flickering but otherwise detailed image of High Inquisitor Aversa appeared. She didn't look like she'd aged a day in thirty years, and she still wore the same unsettling smile she had during the war so many years ago. Altman stood at attention as soon as the image was clear.

"Altman! My favorite Ylissean inquisitor. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm contacting you to provide a report on my research, as you requested me to update you regularly."

Aversa rolled her eyes. "Always so literal. It was just a saying. I know why you're contacting me. What do you have to report?" Altman was about to speak before Aversa quickly cut him off. Altman immediately held his tongue and acted like he'd always been silent. "I do hope you've made progress. The last time I had the 'pleasure' of speaking to Grima, the Fell Dragon threatened to unleash Tunnellers on northern Plegia if we didn't get progress. For such an old being, Grima isn't much for patience anymore."

"Everything is proceeding as planned, High Inquisitor. We've captured Caeldori, the daughter of Severa, granddaughter of Cordelia, Pegasus Knight in service to the ancient order of all female soldiers/police officers/guards that has protected Ylisse for thousands of-"

"Yeah, yeah. Get to the point."

"I've performed the procedure on her, and we've extracted a small amount of material that tests positive for radiation."

"Is it enough to work with?"

"Not even close. It does prove that her mother was exposed to a massive amount of radiation though. If we could capture her, we'd have enough to run experiments on. We could understand the magic Naga used to open the outrealm gate."

"What about the others?"

"Ophelia and Soleil will be captured soon, High Inquisitor. We've sent an agent after them, the former Lord Lieutenant of Sector 141 in fact."

"Courtney, right? One of Gangrel's lackeys?"

"Yes. He is skilled enough, and he wanted revenge on Chrom. He volunteered."

"You did tell him that I want Chrom kept alive, right? I would very much like to have a few words with him after all these years."

"I made it very clear. I suspected you'd want him alive."

"Very good, Altman. I'll mention your successes to the Fell Dragon when I next see it. I'm sure Grima will be pleased with your work."

"Thank you, High Inquisitor."

"That was a joke. Grima is never pleased with anything."

"Apologies, High Inquisitor. Your intellect in the field of humor vastly exceeds mine."

Aversa rolled her eyes again. "Goodbye, Altman."

Altman bowed as the image disappeared and took out a notebook from a desk. He dipped a quill pen in ink and began writing in it. "Project: Xenologue Status Report # 24. Subject Caeldori (female, red hair, red eyes, Pegasus Knight, ID # 3286) tested positive for radiation. Initiate plan to capture Severa (female, red hair, red eyes, last known class Mercenary, ID # 0028). High Inquisitor Aversa pleased with progress."

Meanwhile in the camp's courtyard, prisoners loitered and mingled with each other, enjoying the little free time they were granted. Among them was Caeldori. She had finally been deprived of her armor, and she now wore unassuming rags. On her shoulder was now a small but noticeable tattoo, 3286 in black numbers. The tattoo was so recent that the skin around it was still red and irritated.

"A-and then he looked right at me, looked me right in the eye, and said to me 'I have no son. A daughter maybe, but no son.' He said that to me! I was only eight years old!" A man about three times larger than Caeldori sniffled as he told his story. Caeldori nodded sympathetically as she braided the man's hair.

"You know what? If he can't accept you for who you are, then you don't need him in your life. He may be your father, but the only person you need to accept you is you. You don't need abusive people like him."

The man perked up and nodded his head. "You're right, Caeldori. If he can't accept me, then I don't need him!"

"Always happy to lend an ear, Bonesaw."

"Why are you here anyways, Caeldori? You seem like such a nice person."

"I'm a prisoner of war. I was resisting the Grimleal. Isn't that why you're here?"

"No. I'm here because I hacked my sister's boyfriend apart with a bonesaw."

Caeldori couldn't help but be unnerved, but she didn't let it show in her braiding. She kept her hands steady to hide her wariness. "Uh, is that… is that why they call you Bonesaw?"

"Nothing gets past you huh?"

The two were interrupted by a number of prison guards storming into the courtyard. They yelled and shouted at the prisoners to line up. Caeldori studied them carefully. "What's happening?"

"It's time for us to take our medicine."

"Medicine?"

"Pills that keep us docile and controllable. Do yourself a favor and take the pill when they give it to you. They'll beat the right Sunday out of you if you don't."

Sure enough a guard eventually did approach Caeldori and Bonesaw. He held out a pill in one hand and a club in the other. He shot Caeldori a menacing glare. "You first, new blood." Caeldori wasn't intimidated, but she did take the pill and made a swallowing motion. The guard turned and gave a pill to Bonesaw, and the massive man swallowed it obediently. Caeldori waited for the guard to leave before spitting the pill back into her hand. Bonesaw was shocked. He seemed genuinely afraid.

"You didn't take it? Do you know what they'll do if you don't take those?!"

"I think I know how to get out of here."

"No one ever escapes from The Rockpile."

"Well they've never had to deal with me before. Now are you in?"


	10. The Last Pegasus Knight

_Here in my empire, that you do not remember_

 _Your hands do not toil_

 _Your eyes do not see_

 _Your ears do not listen_

 _Chaos reigns_

 _And your hands cannot toil_

 _And your eyes cannot see_

 _And your ears cannot listen_

 _But I will return, and my crusade will bring order to the land_

 _And through war your hands will toil_

 _And through war your eyes will see_

 _And through war your ears will listen_

 _I shall return_

 _And the world will toil_

 _And the world will see_

 _And the world will listen_

 _And that world will cease to be_

 _My world will remain_

Mercer awoke tied to a chair in a small room. In front of him was a table, and a chair was opposite to him. After a few minutes, two guards walked into the room with a young woman. They forced her to sit in the chair across the table from Mercer. The woman's hands were bound, and her face was bloodied and bruised. The woman didn't look at the guards at all. She didn't turn her head when they left the room, and she didn't look up at Courtney either. When her eyes fell on Mercer, her expression eased and her lips curled into a soft smile. Mercer couldn't bring himself to do anything but stare. The woman in front of him was a spitting image of a woman he had once called an ally, but a woman he hadn't seen in thirty years. She had the same long, red hair, and the same red eyes. She had the same face. She had the same body. The same soft smile. It was like a clone. Mercer could see bits of Lissa in Ophelia, and Olivia in Soleil, but this woman was like an exact copy. There were only minor differences to show that this was a different woman, and not a figment of Mercer's imagination. In her eyes was a determination, whereas the woman she resembled so much had a gloom, a sadness in her eyes at times. The woman in front of Mercer also stared intently at him, whereas the woman she reminded Mercer of never really looked right at him. She would always dart her eyes away or become very flustered, and Mercer had always wondered if he'd done something to wrong her without knowing it. On the off chance that this woman in front of him wasn't part of some cruel illusion, Mercer had to speak up.

"C-Cordelia?"

The young woman's smile grew wider, and it seemed like she was trying to be reassuring. She was trying to silently tell him that her injuries weren't bad. "My maternal grandmother, yes."

"Caeldori."

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Chrom. I wish it could be under more favorable circumstances. Tiki has told us so much about you. I suppose you came here to free me?"

"We were looking for you but… we were captured."

Caeldori studied Mercer and slowly nodded her head. "Good job."

"Now isn't this nice." Courtney said as he walked to the table. "Now I'm sure you're wondering why I've brought you both here." Courtney drew an elthunder tome and slammed it on the table. "This is an elthunder tome. It was made by Plegian mages for one purpose. The same purpose all tomes are made for. They ain't made for training. They ain't made for killing beasts. No. Tomes are made for one reason, and for thousands of years they've been made for that reason. They're made to kill people."

"I appreciate the history lesson." Caeldori responded dryly. Courtney put his mask very close to her head, but Caeldori didn't turn to look at him.

"I'd watch what you say, girl. Altman don't need you breathing no more."

"What did you do to her?" Mercer growled. Courtney just laughed.

"I didn't do anything to her. The other inmates must have thought her face was too pretty. They roughed her up and told us she'd been planning some kind of escape. I was told to make an example of her, but that'd be kind of pointless. The inmates don't like her, so they wouldn't be affected by her death. I know someone who would be affected by anything I do to her though, so I thought I'd take her to see him. Now you two are going to play a game."

"What kind of game?" Mercer responded in a menacing tone. Mercer's defiance just made Courtney laugh even harder.

"It's called roulette, but it ain't the kind you'd play in gambling. This game is called Plegian Roulette. It takes a tome and two idiots." Courtney slammed his hand on the elthunder tome. "This is the tome. You're the two idiots. Do you know how tomes work, boy?" Mercer didn't answer. Courtney got uncomfortably close to him. "Only certain pages in a tome will generate magical attacks. Mages can't flip through their tomes in the heat of battle, so they're taught to be able to open the tome right to the page they need. I'm not going to do that though. I'm going to open to a random page, and then I'm going to point my arm at you. If I'm on a page that will generate a magical attack, then you get a lightning bolt in the face. If I'm not, then I'll point my arm at the other person and flip the page. I'll do this until I finally reach a page that generates a magical attack." Courtney opened the tome to the middle of the book and raised his arm at Mercer. "You first."

Courtney forced Mercer and Caeldori to play his "game" for almost twenty minutes. Page after page he would point his arm at Mercer, then Caeldori, then Mercer, then Caeldori, over and over, page after page after page. The suspense was the worst part. Mercer wasn't even sure if it was a real tome, but a part of him was still afraid. He was stuck in a horrible state where part of him wanted something to happen just to find out if the tome was real or not, and the rest of him was telling that part of him that he was crazy. Every time Courtney pointed his arm at Mercer, he tensed up in fear. Every time Courtney pointed his arm at Caeldori, Mercer was overwhelmed by an even worse terror that she would be hit. The thought of Caeldori being hurt was unbearable to Mercer. He wasn't sure if it was because she meant so much to Ophelia and Soleil, or because she reminded him so much of Cordelia, or because Ophelia was right and Mercer cared about other people far more than he wanted to admit, but Mercer absolutely could not stand the the thought of her being killed. Caeldori herself was calm throughout everything. She only occasionally darted her eyes towards Courtney. For the most part she looked into Mercer's eyes and gave him a calm expression. Mercer himself was breaking.

"STOP! GODS! STOP IT!"

"That's not how the game works! We're going to keep playing until one of you gets a lightning bolt in the face."

"I know you hate me, Courtney, but please don't hurt her! Whatever you're going to do, just do it to me! Caeldori hasn't done anything to you!"

"Well that's not entirely true. Cordelia Jr. here has killed forty seven Grimleal agents over the past five years. She's quite the angel of death."

Caeldori gave a cheeky smile. "Well I try." Courtney grabbed the back of her head and slammed it on the table.

"That's real funny girl, but I'd watch what I say if I were you. Your name might as well be dirt. I can do anything I want to you. I'm so far above you that I could defecate on you and it would feel as if a divine dragon itself had crapped on you."

Caeldori refused to show any fear. "Well that's… quite the mental image."

"LET HER GO!"

Courtney chuckled. "Oh she'll be a Pegasus Knight shaped splat on the ground when I'm done with her." Courtney got very close to Mercer. "But that's nothing compared to what I'll do to you."

"Enough of this!"

Everyone turned to find a man wearing both robes and armor standing in the doorway, a large glaive in his hand. Mercer didn't know him, but Courtney and Caeldori recognized him as an Inquisitor. "Altman." Courtney snarled. "Nothing better to do than ruin my work?"

"Don't threaten them, Courtney. Aversa needs them alive."

"This is my operation. I'm the Lord Lieutenant of this sector."

"You were, but you couldn't keep Chrom from killing your lieutenants. You lost your power base. You're still useful as a brute, but you have no power anymore. I am in charge of this operation."

Courtney stepped close to Altman and tried to look down on him. "Listen here, you Plegian loitersack. I-"

"First correction, I am Ylissean. Second, I report directly to High Inquisitor Aversa. Do you want to earn her ire? You mean nothing to the emperor, Courtney. He will not stand up to Aversa if she wants your head. Do as I say." Courtney continued to stand menacingly, but he didn't say anything else. Altman nodded to the door. "Now get out." Courtney walked over to Caeldori and slammed her head on the desk again out of spite before departing. Altman sighed and stood over Caeldori and Mercer. He didn't try to intimidate them. He just stood with a very straight posture, as if he were a servant waiting to be acknowledged. He patiently waited for Caeldori to recover before speaking. "Hello, Chrom. My name is Altman. I am an Inquisitor in service to High Inquisitor Aversa. It's my understanding that you two know each other?"

"Oh we know each other." Mercer said dryly.

"She is very interested in seeing you again after all these years. You will be transferred to High Point."

"High Point?"

"The capital of the Grimleal."

"I thought Gangrel set himself up in my family's palace?"

Altman almost smiled. "Yes, but that is not the capital. The true center of the Grimleal is far beyond that pathetic stone blight. A shell of the old world. Anyways, you will be kept here until we can transfer you."

"What about me?" Caeldori asked.

"You'll be kept here for the rest of your natural life."

Caeldori looked back to Mercer. "We'll see."

Mercer could barely contain his growing rage. "Where are Ophelia and Soleil?"

"You mean Prisoner #3291 and Prisoner #3292? They will also be here until the end of their natural lives."

"If you've done anything to harm them-"

A number of heavily armed guards appeared behind Altman. "This exchange is over."

Mercer was separated from Caeldori and tied to yet another chair. There he was held still as a man forcibly tattooed him. The tattoo was four numbers in black print. 3293. It was tattooed right beneath his Mark of Naga. Mercer was still screaming from the pain of the jagged needle when the guards ripped him from the chair and threw him into the prison courtyard. There he found Soleil and Ophelia waiting for him. They looked drowsy and barely conscious. They too had identification tattoos on their arms.

"W-what did they do to you?!"

"Oh hey, Mercer." Soleil groaned. "Did you get older and more squint eyed than the last time we saw you?"

"Huh?"

Ophelia rubbed her hand on her face and moaned. "They tortured us, Mercer. That robed man. Alderman, or Oldman, or Ladiesman, or whatever his name was. He made us drink something, then he electrocuted us. Over and over. Then… then he… let's just say he took fluids from us."

"Gods!"

"Are we going to die here?"

"No! No, no." Mercer couldn't bring himself to look confident. He was hurt and tired, and he was really terrified. Being killed by a mob of angry townspeople seemed tame by comparison. "No. We're… we're going to be fine."

Ophelia looked into Mercer's eyes. When he couldn't give her a genuinely reassuring look, she quickly darted her eyes away. Her lip quivered and her breathing became irregular, but then she noticed something behind Mercer. Her face lit up, and she became happier than Mercer had ever seen her. "C-Caeldy?!"

Mercer turned around to see Caeldori, and for the first time since he'd seen her, her stoic look disappeared. Instead a look of pure glee took her. "Phelia!" The two ran up and embraced each other, happily rocking each other back and forth.

"Oh, Caeldori! You're safe! You're saaafe!"

"I missed you so much, Ophelia!" The two looked at each other and grinned from ear to ear. "It's so good to see you!" Caeldori and Ophelia went back to hugging each other for a few seconds before Caeldori noticed Soleil. Caeldori's smile didn't disappear entirely, but her excitement definitely faded. "Soleil." She said in a flat tone.

"Caeldori." The two approached each other, but they made sure there was space between them. "I'm glad to see that you aren't dead."

Caeldori's smile became more obviously feigned. "I'm glad to see your constant pursuit of women and cheap thrills hasn't left you a stuttering wreck."

"... why did we come back for you again?"

"Come back for me? Don't tell me you call this a rescue?"

"Don't tell me a Pegasus Knight needs other people to be her cavalry."

Mercer stepped closer to Ophelia. "Is there… is there something going on here?"

"Oh they butt heads, but they like each other deep down."

Caeldori glanced around. "Actually, I have been working on a plan to escape."

Soleil shook her head. "No! You can't honestly expect us to believe that. Admit it. This time little miss perfect is as helpless as the rest of us."

"Just because my level of planning is beyond your capacity, that doesn't mean that you have to respond with such ignorance. I've been planning an escape since the moment I was taken here."

"Why can't you just admit that you need our help?!"

"You could be as prepared for these kinds of situations as I am if your desire for real discipline was as strong as your desire for anything in a skirt."

"You know what, why don't you just-" Caeldori shoved Soleil to stagger her, and then maneuvered behind her. She wrapped one arm around her neck, and used her other arm to grab Soleil's arm and bend it behind her. Soleil tried to squirm free, but Caeldori held her. "Gah! Let me go you crazy-"

"Ooh. So the mercenary thinks herself an upstart does she? Think you can take me? Have to assert your dominance? Feel good about yourself now?"

"Stop! Aagh! Why is this arousing?!"

Mercer stepped forward, but Ophelia stuck her arm out. "They're just playing! They're fine."

"I take it those two don't always get along."

Ophelia smiled sheepishly. "They're fine."

Soleil struggled harder, but Caeldori only tightened her grip. "This isn't funny!"

"You going to run your mouth, or are you going to let me talk? We don't have unlimited time. Chrom will be transferred to High Point soon."

"I'm sorry I tried to share my opinion." Soleil said sarcastically. "I'm sorry you're such a controlling stick in the mud!"

"That's the best I'll get isn't it?"

"Yeah." Caeldori let Soleil go, and she scurried to Ophelia's side. "Nice to see you too, Caeldori." Soleil muttered. "Thanks for reminding me how nice it was when we thought you were Tunneler food."

"Excuse me?"

"Hmm? I didn't say anything."

Caeldori looked at Mercer. "The injuries on my face? This is all staged. I ordered the prisoners to do it."

"What?"

"It's part of my plan. I thought the Grimleal were catching on to me, so I had the prisoners beat me and make it seem like I was trying to start a riot to throw them off."

"But they actually beat you?!"

"Well yeah. It had to be convincing."

Mercer looked to Ophelia to make sure she was hearing what he was hearing, but she wasn't surprised. She just shrugged. "Caeldori always did come up with strange plans, but they've gotten us out of problems before."

"I made it seem like the other prisoners turned on me, but they're actually waiting for my signal."

"You honestly expect us to believe you got the other prisoners here to work for you?!" Soleil said in exasperation. Caeldori just whistled and nodded to something behind her. A few seconds later, a very large man weighing more than Caeldori and Soleil put together walked behind Soleil and just stood there. He leaned right over her head, and Soleil's skin turned a few shades lighter as she slowly turned to look at him.

"The Bonesaw doesn't like how you've been talking to the boss woman!"

"Err… I… well… Caeldori?!"

Caeldori chuckled. "That's enough, Bonesaw. Our alpha priority assets have arrived. It's time to begin."

"You mean-"

"Yes. Do it."

Bonesaw gave a thuggish smile. "Bonesaw is rea-ddyyyyy!"

Bonesaw full on sprinted towards a nearby guard. The guard took a few sideways glances at him, but he didn't fully turn his attention to him until he was almost on top of the guard. The prison guard frantically reached for his tome, but he couldn't draw it before Bonesaw seized his arm and threw him overhead. The guard slowly tried to crawl away, but Bonesaw grabbed his legs. "Hey freakshow! You're going nowhere!" Bonesaw dragged the guard towards the prison walls. The nearby prisoners didn't seem to support Bonesaw's actions, but they didn't leave either. When three other guards finally came to stop Bonesaw, they just ran by the other prisoners. As soon as they did, they immediately formed a mob and surrounded the guards. Before they could properly react, the prisoners descended on the prison guards with small, makeshift weapons they had created from all manner of seemingly innocent tools. Almost a dozen of them savagely struck at the guards in any way they could, and the others all chanted. "ASCEND FROM DARKNESS!"

"ASCEND FROM DARKNESS!" Caeldori roared back. Mercer did a double take from her to the prisoners.

"What-how-gah-what?!"

"I really did organize the other prisoners, Mercer. This is our chance. We are leaving."

"This is insane! They'll kill us! We have no weapons!"

"Really? Tell me if you see any other guards?"

Sure enough there weren't any other guards besides the unfortunate ones stationed in the courtyard. At this point the prisoners were running around and screaming at the top of their lungs, but no guards responded. "Where… what?!"

"The guards control the prisoners here by giving them some kind of sedative. They gave them to me, but I never took any of them. I kept them until I had a few dozen of them. When that Inqusitor, Altman, was torturing me, I was able to briefly glance some of his records. I knew when the Grimleal would try to bring you here, so last night I broke all of my pills and put the powder inside into a bag. I had that smuggled into the well the guards use for water. Eight in ten guards should be in a very deep sleep right about now. We just have to deal with the rest."

Mercer and Ophelia looked at each other in shock.

"How could you possibly-" They both said in unison. Caeldori cut them off.

"We really don't have time. We need to secure the lockup where they keep our possessions. We'll need our weapons and armor when we leave, and I'm sure they've taken Chrom's Falchion."

"How are we going to get out of here? Are you going to get your Pegasus somehow?"

For a brief moment, Caeldori looked very pained. She steeled herself and tried her best not to show any weakness in front of her allies, but Mercer could tell that the Grimleal had gotten to her. "No. She's… she's gone. When I was taken… they… they butchered her… right in front of me."

"Oh, Caeldy."

Caeldori shook her head. "It's fine. We need to move quickly. If the remaining guards figure out where we're going, they could still lock it down."

Meanwhile in one of the guard towers, Inquisitor Altman looked down in paralyzed shock after the violence in the courtyard finally became too much for him to drown out. Behind him, Tharja's spectre ascended from the floor and got uncomfortably close to Altman. "You realize that if Cordelia's clone escapes, we'll never complete Project: Xenologue?"

Altman shot her a bitter glare. "Why don't you make yourself useful and find Courtney. Tell him to get his rosy ass in gear and contain this! Tell him to mobilize the Reavers!"

The group managed to force their way into the lockup. Mercer and Ophelia found their personal weapons, and everyone took approximations of the normal attire of their respective classes. When they reached the courtyard again, they saw prisoners running towards them. Caeldori briefly hoped that they were arming themselves, but it soon became clear that they were running from a group of Grimleal soldiers. These soldiers looked very little like the prison guards. They wore a few pieces of pitch black plate armor, and leather and fur covered the rest of them. Their weapons all looked like hunting tools. Instead of spears, they had jagged weapons that resembled harpoons. Instead of swords, they had weapons that looked designed to help flay and butcher animals. The soldiers also had short bows slung on their backs, and some even looked like they had small tubular weapons like the ones Theresa had used on their hips. Finally, they all wore masks similar to the one worn by their leader, who stood in front of them.

"So you did this, Caeldori? I have to say, I underestimated you. You'd a made a good Reaver. 'Course, I hear they have good brainwashing programs back in High Point. It might not be too late."

Mercer's face twisted in a grimace. "I'm going to make sure you stay down this time, Courtney."

"Aww, so you do think about me. I sure think about you. I stay up late remembering what it was like when my face was still pretty, before you came into my home and mutilated me without provocation!"

"You murdered a man and his daughter in cold blood! He was still just a damn kid!"

Courtney made exaggerated crying motions with his left hand and the gauntlet attached to his right arm. "Oh no! Whatever will the world do without another twenty something man?! They're a gold piece a dozen! I could go down to the slave markets and buy one if I swung that way."

"You're going to pay for what you've done to this land, Courtney."

Courtney chuckled and turned to his soldiers. "Reavers! Kill the bitches! I get the old one."

The Reavers immediately let fly a hail of projectiles onto the three girls. Mercer tried to defend them, but Courtney singled him out and immediately drove him back. Mercer was unprepared for the ferocity of the offensive, and he was driven back so quickly that he lost sight of the girls and Courtney's soldiers. Courtney had apparently learned from his last fight with Mercer. He didn't attack with his tome. Instead he kept his gauntlet equipped and dual wielded his levin sword in his other hand. Courtney would take wide slashes with his levin sword, and then quickly jab at Mercer with his gauntlet. Mercer couldn't ignore the levin sword, but he couldn't figure out how to defend himself against it in such a way that he wasn't open to quick strikes from the gauntlet. Furthermore Mercer's knee was still giving him problems. He couldn't end the fight quickly, and he grew weaker with every hit Courtney landed on him, and with every step he put on his bad knee.

"Come on, Mercer! Do better than that! What would your daughter say?!"

Mercer closed his eyes and tried to block out Courtney's words. Courtney's taunting had been too much for him the first time they fought, and he didn't think he was in the right state of mind to resist it with everything that had happened. "Don't talk about her!"

"If Lucina had lived, what should we have done with her? Slave or Reaver? Personally I would say Reaver, but I don't know. If we gave her as a gift to Gangrel, I'd bet she'd make palace visits much more entertaining."

"Don't speak her name!"

"And didn't you have a son or something? Wasn't he some kind of pacifist? I would have loved to have personally brainwashed him into becoming a Reaver."

"Shut up!"

"Seriously though, the Grimleal tell stories about how ferocious your daughter was as a warrior. She was motivated by a desire to live up to the legacy of her beloved father. How do you think she felt when she realized that she was stronger than you could ever be? How do you think she felt when she realized that you were too weak to protect her? How do you think she felt when the Shepherds fell, and she realized that her idol broke her?"

"SHUT UP!"

Mercer took wild slashes at Courtney, but each time he left himself open and Courtney quickly jabbed him with his gauntlet. "Why do you hang around these new girls? Are they her replacements? Tell you what. One of them is going to be my personal entertainer. One of them is going to be a Reaver. One of them is going to be dog food. Take your pick!"

"AAAARRRRGHH!" Mercer threw himself at Courtney in a blind rage, but Courtney punished him severely for it. He managed a hit on Mercer's shoulder with his levin sword and then landed a solid punch to his face. When Mercer staggered backwards, Courtney kicked him in his bad knee. Mercer went down screaming, and tears involuntarily rolled down his cheeks. He wasn't sure that anything had ever hurt him that much. Mercer screamed in agony for several seconds, and Courtney didn't attack him. He just stood and admired his handiwork. "Please." Mercer whimpered. "Please don't hurt them. Do anything you want to me, but please don't hurt them."

"Aww. I'll make sure to tell them you cared." Courtney drove his levin sword into Mercer's stomach and activated it, electrocuting him from the inside. Mercer couldn't even control his body enough to scream. He violently shook and convulsed, and even after Courtney withdrew his sword he still spasmed uncontrollably. He didn't even bleed from his wound. The sheer heat had fused it closed, and steam began to rise from Mercer as burn marks appeared on his skin. Courtney chuckled. "Oh I'd love to do this until you were as crispy as I am, but I have a rebellion to put down, so I have to make this quick. Come on." Courtney grabbed Mercer by the neck and dragged him through the courtyard, ignoring the growing battle between prisoners and Reavers. He took Mercer through the prison walls and onto a landing platform for wyverns. He tossed Mercer to the ledge, so that he could see the long drop down the almost vertical cliff side of the mountain the prison had been built on. "It's time for you to join the rest of your inbred family in extinction. Now you and your sister will have experience with long falls."

Before Courtney could throw Mercer over the ledge, he turned at the sound of footsteps coming towards him. Caeldori, Ophelia, and Soleil were charging at him. Their clothes were torn, and blood was splattered on them in such a way that it couldn't have been theirs. They had no fear in their eyes, and for a moment a shiver went down Courtney's spine. "Together!" Caeldori roared.

"Right!" Ophelia and Soleil responded. Soleil took the shield off of her arm and threw it like a discus at Courtney. It hit him in the head, and staggered him long enough for Ophelia to unleash an icy gale from her personal tome. Ophelia remembered that Courtney had too much resistance to be injured, so instead of attacking his whole body, she focused on his hand. The more concentrated attack managed to freeze Courtney's hand, and he was in too much pain to prevent Caeldori from dashing to his side. She stabbed him in the knee with her spear, and Soleil came to his other side and slashed the side of his abdomen with her sword. Ophelia hit him with one last blast from his tome, and then Caeldori and Soleil immediately shoulder tackled him backwards. Courtney staggered and went over the cliff himself, screaming as he plummeted into the apathetic forest below. The three girls stood over the ledge and caught their breaths before turning to Mercer.

Mercer had a mix of blood and drool pouring from his mouth, and he still twitched occasionally. The girls crowded around him, and Caeldori felt his pulse on his neck. She almost immediately withdrew her hand in terror. "Gods! His pulse is irregular!"

"He needs help." Ophelia said. She turned to Mercer and placed her hand on his cheek. "Stay with me, Chrom. Stay with me!"

"Do you have anything?!" Soleil screamed to Caeldori. Caeldori looked down at her outfit, which consisted of loose pieces of plate armor over her prison rags.

"Does it look like I have any pockets? Where would I get the medicine? They gave us sedatives, not medicine. We need to get him out of here."

"We don't have anywhere to go!" Ophelia responded. "He was kicked out of his home."

Caeldori thought briefly. "Then we'll have to take him to my mentor. The woman who taught me to be a Pegasus Knight."

"But-"

"I know we're supposed to keep her hidden, but we have no other options. She can help him, and she knows him. She used to go on and on about him."

The three girls looked back to Mercer. Ophelia leaned over him. "It's going to be okay, Chrom. Stay with us. Please don't leave us!"

Caeldori gently pushed her away. "We're going to take you to our ally. She's a friend. You know her. She can help you. Just… do us all a favor and don't die."

Mercer responded by violently spitting up blood and blacking out.

* * *

 **One Week Later**

A middle aged man stood over a workbench and tinkered with an arquebus as an assistant walked over to him. The man pulled up his goggles, exposing is graying orange hair, and wiped the sweat off his forehead before turning to face the young woman. "What is it now? I told you I needed time to maintain my weapons. Firearms don't treat you well if you don't treat them well."

"It's urgent, sir."

The man rolled his eyes and went back to servicing his arquebus. "Yeah, yeah. Someone wants revenge for someone I killed way back when. Must be a Thursday."

"Actually it's a job offer."

"Then what's so damn urgent about it?"

"I just didn't know how you'd respond to it. It's from the Grimleal."

"I don't work with them anymore. Not after last time."

"I know, but they're offering quintuple what they paid last time. 250,000 gold."

The man froze. "So who did they want killed?"


	11. The Breaking

It was hard for Mercer to describe what was happening to him. He couldn't see or feel his own body, but he still felt like he was physically present somewhere. All he could see was black. He couldn't move, and he couldn't tell where he was. In the distance he could hear chanting. There were dozens of voices. He thought some of them were familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint them.

"Here in my empire, that you do not remember

Your hands do not toil

Your eyes do not see

Your ears do not listen

Chaos reigns

And your hands cannot toil

And your eyes cannot see

And your ears cannot listen

But I will return, and my crusade will bring order to the land

And through war your hands will toil

And through war your eyes will see

And through war your ears will listen

I shall return

And the world will toil

And the world will see

And the world will listen

And that world will cease to be

My world will remain"

"What?!" He cried out. No one answered him.

Mercer awoke in a bed. He immediately jumped up and looked around. He could see his body this time, and he looked to be in a normal room. "What a strange dream." Mercer got up from the bed. He was bare chested, and it wasn't a pretty sight. He had electrical burns all along his chest, and the stab wound from Courtney's levin sword was prominent. He retrieved a shirt he found hanging up and stumbled out of the room.

Mercer seemed to be in a log cabin of some kind. It didn't have much in the way of furnishings, but it was clear that someone was living there. "Ophelia? Soleil? Caeldori?" Mercer thought he could hear something in the background. His hearing had rapidly degraded over the past several years, but he could swear it sounded like a harp. He followed the music into a small room down a hallway. Inside he saw something so unlikely, that he could barely comprehend it as anything but yet another cruel illusion. The woman playing the harp had long, flowing red hair. Her clothes were unassuming, but she noticeably wore a short skirt with long boots that went past her knees. Just like when he had seen Caeldori for the first time, Mercer thought he was looking at a figment of his imagination. The woman looked so much like someone he had once known, and again he had to speak up on the chance that she was actually real.

"Who… who are you?"

The woman froze. She stood up quickly, but she turned to face Mercer very slowly. This time, Mercer was sure. This woman was someone he had once known. "You're awake. You're finally awake." The woman grinned from ear to ear. "Gods! It's so nice to see you again, Chrom. After all these years."

"Cordelia?!" Cordelia looked middle aged, but time had been far less forceful with her than it had been with Mercer. Cordelia had wrinkles, but they did nothing to subtract from her soft features. Mercer's wrinkles by comparison seemed to want to pull his whole face down. Cordelia had noticeable gray in her hair, but it was still bright red for the most part, and it was still smooth and well kept. Mercer's hair barely had any blue in it, and his unkempt beard was completely gunmetal gray. Cordelia's posture was completely straight, while Mercer could no longer stand up straight without something in his body talking to him. There was something distressing about her however. Cordelia had a brown rag tied over her eyes like a blindfold. Her smile faded, as if she knew where Mercer was looking. "Are you-"

"Blind? Yes."

Mercer was hit by a twinge of guilt, and any happiness he had at seeing a Shepherd again was replaced with pain. "Did that-"

"Was I blinded because of what happened thirty years ago?" Cordelia looked down. "Yes." Mercer tried to speak, but he choked on his words. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he could only make gurgling noises until finally spitting out a word.

"I-I… I… I'm so sorry! I did this to you."

"Chrom… the girls told me how you feel about what happened. You have to stop blaming yourself."

"I did this to you!"

Cordelia walked up to Chrom and placed her hands on his face, gently running them down to his chest. "Hey come on. This is a happy moment. I… I thought you died thirty years ago. I was horrified when Caeldori brought you here on the verge of death, but you're safe now. I am so glad to see you again… metaphorically speaking."

"Cordelia…"

Cordelia began to walk away. "Come on. Let's talk."

Mercer and Cordelia sat together at a table. Cordelia had made tea, but Mercer couldn't touch it. He couldn't bring himself to take anything more from Cordelia, and he already felt bad about everything she had done for him. Without Cordelia's help, Mercer would have died from his injuries.

"So you've been living here since Grima took over."

Cordelia nodded. "I had a bit of money saved up from my time as a Pegasus Knight. When the Fell Dragon took over, there was something of a market panic. Land was very cheap, especially in Ylisse. This place is remote. I haven't been bothered since I moved here."

"Caeldori grew up here then?"

"Yes. I trained her as a Pegasus Knight… and I also raised her. I was like her mother really."

"What about her actual mother…"

Cordelia was silent for almost a minute. "Oh, Severa. I miss her so much, Chrom."

"She's gone then."

"I don't know. I had been living here for five years when Severa found me. I don't know how she found me, but she just appeared at my doorstep one day. She had Caeldori with her, and she was only about five years old. She was the most adorable little girl. I still remember her clinging to her mother's leg, poking her little head out to look at me."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Severa begged me, I mean she begged me, to take Caeldori. She said the Grimleal were after her. I think they'd taken Caeldori's father not long before. Severa didn't talk much about him, but she acted like the Grimleal had made him disappear. She said she didn't have much time, and she asked me to take Caeldori. I asked if she would come back. She said she didn't know." Cordelia's voice became very low. She had long processed the emotions in her story, but it was still painful for her. "I begged Severa to stay with me. I told her she'd be safe with me. I told her they'd never find us here. She wouldn't have any of it. She stayed for three days, then she left. I never saw her again, and Caeldori has been with me ever since."

"You raised her by yourself? While blind?"

"I wasn't blind back then."

"But-"

"When the Shepherds fell, I was slashed across the eyes. I don't know how, but I managed to make my way to a settlement. They managed to heal my eyes, for a time anyways. As the years went by my vision deteriorated, and nothing could reverse it. I went fully blind about ten years ago."

"But when Caeldori moved out, you lived here by yourself?"

Cordelia smiled. "I'm blind, not crippled. I can live on my own just fine. In fact I bet I could take you."

"You probably could. My body gives me trouble whenever I do anything these days."

"I know. I examined your body after Caeldori brought you to me, and after we took care of your most immediate wounds."

"You examined me?"

"Oh! It was from a purely medical perspective I assure you!"

"What I meant was, how could you do that without seeing?"

"Well… my other senses are much stronger. I have a very developed sense of touch. I felt your body."

"You felt me?"

"I… err… from a purely m-medical perspective." Cordelia blushed. "I ran my hands along your chest because, well I had no other way… it was just so that I could make sure you were okay… I didn't mean to feel you up or anything… that's not what I was doing! I just, err… nevermind. Anyways, I can tell that you've taken a lot of injuries over the past few weeks. You have burn marks, subdermal burn marks, stab wounds, piercing wounds that don't appear to have come from melee weapons, and a lot of bruises. Whatever it is you're doing, if you keep living like this, you'll die."

"Death comes for everybody."

"Stop!" Cordelia grabbed Mercer's hand. "Stop. This is a happy time. Gods… I can't believe you're still alive. I can't believe it. You… you can't imagine what this means to me."

"Cordelia… I hurt you. I failed you. I failed everyone."

Cordelia shook her head. "I don't want to hear it. This is a happy moment. Come on. Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"For a walk."

Cordelia lead Mercer some distance from the cabin, expertly navigating through the path. Mercer felt guilty about not leading her, but she never slowed down to let him pass her. She avoided every rock and branch in the way as if she'd done it thousands of times. Mercer realized just how long thirty years was. He hadn't even lived in his house for that long. Eventually Cordelia made her way to the edge of a cliff. Mercer could see the forest below extend for kilometers into the distance. It was sunset, and the view was breathtaking. Mercer stood at the cliff side and took it in while Cordelia sat on a nearby log. "It's… wow. This is quite the view."

"Yeah. It is something isn't it. I used to come here with Caeldori when she was a little girl, and when I could see." Cordelia took a deep breath and exhaled. She turned towards the direction of the sunset. "Chrom… could you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Could you describe it for me?"

Mercer briefly turned to Cordelia in confusion before remembering that she was blind. It was surreal. Mercer's mind kept imagining her as she was thirty years ago. "Oh, uh… sure. It's, it's beautiful. There's red, and orange, and yellow. You can see for kilometers."

Cordelia smiled. "Thank you, Chrom. I haven't seen a sunset in ten years. It's one of those things you take for granted, you know?"

"Yeah. I guess we take a lot of things for granted." Mercer turned to Cordelia. "Like being with friends."

"You know… when we were in the Shepherds… I don't think we ever had a moment like this, just the two of us."

Mercer immediately thought that couldn't be right, but he realized that he hadn't really spent much time with Cordelia by herself. "You're… you're right. That's strange. I was so used to seeing you, but you're right. We didn't spend much time together… though I think we spoke on a beach once?"

Cordelia blushed. "You remember that?"

"You had heat stroke or something? I had to carry you."

"Y-yeah that's what happened. Heat stroke." She responded nervously.

"Well… I'm glad we could share this moment. Thank you, Cordelia."

"You don't know how happy I am to see you again, Chrom."

"Really?"

"Yes! Yes, really." Cordelia stood up and walked towards Chrom, gently feeling for him until she reached his shoulder. "It's a miracle that we're able to see each other again."

Though Cordelia couldn't see him, Mercer couldn't look right at her. His lip quivered, and his voice cracked. "Cordelia… can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Why don't you hate me?"

"What?!"

Mercer placed his hands on Cordelia's blindfold. "I did this to you! I'm the reason why Severa isn't with you! Why your husband isn't with you! I'm the reason why Caeldori had to grow up surrounded by war!"

"Chrom you have to stop blaming yourself for what happened."

"It was my fault!"

"No it wasn't! I know it wasn't!"

"Cordelia… everything that's happened to the world is my fault."

"Stop talking like that!"

"I destroyed your life!"

"I don't hate you. I can't hate you. I will never hate you."

"I don't deserve your kindness. You should have let me die."

"Stop it!"

"I did this to you!"

"I don't hate you!"

"Why not?!"

"Stop it!"

"Why not?!"

"STOP IT!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I love you!" The two froze. Mercer couldn't bring himself to say anything, and Cordelia's face turned the same color as her hair. She took very deep breaths, and almost started hyperventilating. She had to sit back down to calm herself. "Because I love you. I've… I've always loved you."

Mercer was unable to think of anything but simple and inane questions. "You… _love_ me?"

"Yes."

"You've always loved me?"

"Please stop making me say yes."

"S-sorry." Mercer sat beside Cordelia, and she had to turn away from him to feel comfortable.

"I… I don't know when it started. I guess I've always felt this way. Even long before I joined the Shepherds."

"Why… why didn't you-"

"Because I didn't think it was appropriate. I was just a soldier, and you were the prince! Life's not a romance novel. Things don't work that way. When Emmeryn died… I realized you would be Exalt. I would report to you one day. It didn't seem appropriate. It'd be as weird as if… as if Sumia had been with you, or as if Sully had been with you. It wasn't my station."

"I… I didn't-"

Cordelia sighed. "It was for the better. You found true love, and I met my husband. I loved him very much, and he gave me Severa. That was the happiest time of my life. It was better this way." Cordelia's blindfold grew damp as tears ran down her cheeks. "But I lost him, and Severa left me… and now I have no one. No one except Caeldori, and you. I thought my feelings for you were nothing. I thought it was just a crush. I thought it would go away. When I was with my husband, I thought it had gone away. I was happy… but then it was taken from me. I've been alone for a very long time. I spent thirty years thinking you were dead. To see you again… my feelings for you are as strong as they ever were. We're both thirty years older, and I still feel this way about you. I can't even look at you, and I still feel this way about you! This isn't a crush. I… I love you. I can't hold it in anymore. If there's anything I've learned from my life, it's to not take things for granted. It's to not waste the chances you've been given." Cordelia finally turned to face Mercer. "You tell me that I should hate you. You tell me that you don't deserve my respect. I can't hold this in anymore. I can't bear to hear you put yourself down when… when you matter so much to me. I have to tell you that I love you so that, so that you know that you don't have to feel this way about yourself. No one hates you more than you do. A lot of people still look up to you. A lot of people still think you're a great man. A lot of people still love you. I just… the way I feel about you… I just wish you felt that way about yourself."

Mercer just stared blankly at Cordelia. Almost a minute passed, but the moment felt timeless. Cordelia's expression grew more and more anxious. "This… this is really awkward for me, Chrom. Say something!"

"Oh… sorry. It's just." Mercer looked around for a few seconds. Even through the blindfold, Mercer couldn't bear to meet her gaze. "I don't believe you."

"You don't believe me?!"

"No. Cordelia… I took those things from you. I took your husband from you. I took Severa from you. I took Sumia from you. I took your life from you. You should hate me."

"I don't!"

"You should!"

"I will never hate you!"

"I should have died thirty years ago!" Mercer shouted. "I don't deserve to live! I don't deserve to be here, when so many others died! They trusted me! They believed in me! They're dead because of me! I don't deserve your love! You are too smart a woman for this! You should hate me! Everyone should hate me, as much as I hate myself! You shouldn't love me!" Mercer's voice wavered. "I don't believe you."

Cordelia put her hand on Mercer's cheek, and he shivered. "I've never done anything like this… but I'm done hiding my feelings. You really don't believe me?"

"I stole your life. You shouldn't-"

Cordelia leaned in and kissed Mercer, gently running both of her hands down the side of his face and holding him for several seconds. Mercer didn't move. He just sat there and stared through Cordelia, waiting for it to be over. Deep inside of him, Mercer felt feelings he hadn't known in thirty years, but he also felt a very familiar feeling. It was a feeling he had known daily, and as Cordelia held him and slowly brought her lips into a smile, it became unbearable. It was guilt. "Do you believe me now?" Cordelia whispered. Mercer shivered even more.

"You deserve better than me."

Cordelia acted like Mercer had just punched her. She took her hands away and sank into the log. Before either of them could say anything else, a thundering noise could be heard coming from the forest. Mercer looked over to see a pillar of smoke rising into the air. Cordelia jumped up, her sensitive hearing giving her a more intimate relationship with terrifying noises. "What was that?!"

"An explosion. It's coming from the cabin."

Cordelia and Mercer looked to each other, than immediately sprinted back to the cabin.

* * *

Outside of the cabin, Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori found ways to kill time and enjoy the quiet. Caeldori meditated, sitting cross legged and still. Ophelia sat in a similar position, but she wasn't calm. She was trying to levitate a small rock into the air. Ophelia managed to keep if off the ground, but the rock shook violently. Repeatedly it fell back towards the ground, only for Ophelia to slowly bring it back to where it was, only for it to then defect back to gravity and its inexorable pull. Soleil was the only one moving around. She was busy practicing her swordsmanship against the air, swinging wildly and accentuating each strike with a loud roar. Soleil practiced until she was tired and sweaty, and she fell to her knees in exhaustion. "Phew. Good workout." She said to no one in particular.

"Yes." Caeldori responded. "I remember how proud I was when I first defeated the air in sparring."

"I don't recall talking to you."

"Well it's impossible to not pay attention to you given how loud you are. Even Ophelia can't concentrate."

Soleil looked remorsefully at Ophelia. "Oh. I'm sorry, Ophelia. Was I bothering you?"

"No! No, I'm fine thank you. This is hard on its own."

Soleil put down her sword and sat by Ophelia. "What are you doing anyways?"

"I'm practicing my telekinesis."

"Telekinesis?"

"Yes." Ophelia finally opened her eyes and let the rock fall to the ground. "Cordelia once told me that Robin was so powerful, he could move small objects without touching them. She told me that she once saw him moving a tome and his levin sword around his arms. I've been trying to figure out how to do it ever since."

"You're doing a great job! You actually moved that rock."

"Yeah, but I'm not doing very well. I can't even hold this rock." Ophelia closed her eyes, and the rock slowly levitated about half a meter into the air. Once again Ophelia couldn't hold it in place. Soleil reached out and grabbed it, and Ophelia winced. "Gah! That feels the same as if you'd torn it from my hands."

"Oh, sorry. Do you need any help?"

Ophelia took the rock from Soleil and tossed it into the air. She concentrated, and managed to catch it right before it hit the ground. "How could you help?"

"I don't know. I could help you concentrate?"

"I don't see why not." Ophelia focused on the rock again, and Soleil got closer to her.

"Clear your mind. Focus on things that calm you, like… kittens!"

"Kittens?"

"Yeah! Everyone loves kittens. I think I have a few kitten posters you can borrow. Ooh! And you can borrow my bunny blanket! Just think about cute things everywhere! That should help!"

The rock fell to the ground, and Ophelia shook her head. "You're not helping, Soleil."

Soleil glanced down at Ophelia's abdomen. "Well… maybe concentration isn't what you need."

"Hmm?"

"Maybe you need some… excitement!" Soleil jabbed her fingers into Ophelia's sides. Her face contorted in a desperate attempt to not break out laughing, and she fruitlessly grabbed at Soleil's arms.

"SOLEIL! ST-STAHP! I CAN'T BR-BREATH!" The rock in front of Ophelia jumped and flittered around as Ophelia refused to let it go, and it eventually shot backwards and hit Caeldori in the nose. She cried out, and looked up when she finally stopped clutching her nose in pain. A look of fury took her as she noticed Soleil trying to hide behind Ophelia.

"SOLEIL!"

"Why am I in trouble?"

"Ophelia wouldn't have done that if you hadn't been messing with her!"

"Yeah well… you shouldn't have been in the way!"

Caeldori rose to her feet. "I can't believe this! You hit me in the nose when I wasn't doing anything to you, and I can't even get an apology?!"

Soleil stood up and looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry, but it was an accident."

"It may have been an accident, but your lack of discipline is always causing problems!"

"Excuse me?"

"Would it kill you to focus on training instead of messing around?"

"I do train! I was just training!"

"Swinging your sword around in the air isn't really training, and you're constantly practicing your hopeless dancing and singing, or you're going on and on to some poor farm girl about imaginary deeds you've accomplished."

"Don't act so high and mighty. You're no different than I am!"

"I'm a Pegasus Knight. I'm part of an order that had protected Ylisse for thousands of years. You're just a mercenary."

"Well I'm pretty sure it isn't Pegasus Knight procedure to have a stick jammed so far up your rear that I can see it every time you open your mouth."

Ophelia stood up and looked sheepishly at the two. "Come on, guys. Stop. Please?"

"Ooh, real mature. Yet another example of your lack of discipline."

"Yes well this is… this is another example of your… ugliness."

"You know what I enjoy most about our conversations, Soleil?" Caeldori responded dryly. "It's your sparkling intellect."

"Yeah well… no you."

"Stop it!" Ophelia shouted. "Why are you two always fighting?! This should be a happy time! We're all together again."

"Why are you yelling at me, Ophelia? She started it!"

"She threw a rock at me!"

"Enough of this!" Ophelia cried in exasperation. "I'm tired of all these childish fights. You two need to get along!"

Soleil and Caeldori crossed their arms and turned their backs to each other. "She's the problem!" They both said. Soleil stuck her finger at Caeldori. "Hey I was talking to Ophelia!"

"You're wasting her time. She needs to practice, and you're over there getting in the way."

"Fop!"

"Loitersack!"

"Prick tease!"

"Pink-haired weirdo!"

Ophelia ran her hands through her hair. "That's it! You two are going to learn to get along! I want you both to say nice things about each other!"

"Huh?"

"Do it! Both of you! Say something nice about each other!"

Caeldori and Soleil looked at each other for several seconds before turning back to Ophelia, who was staring daggers at them. Whenever one of them tried to protest, her glare grew more severe. Finally the two awkwardly turned to each other. Soleil nervously cleared her throat. "Umm… Caeldori… I like how, uh… I like how your flashiness in battle makes the enemies go after you instead of me."

"No! It can't be passive aggressive. It has to be a real compliment."

Soleil groaned. "Fine. Caeldori, I like… umm…" Soleil kicked her foot back and forth and stared at the ground. "I like… um… I think your Pegasus is pretty."

Caeldori became very saddened. "Thanks but… she's not with us anymore. Remember?"

"Oh I'm… sorry."

"It's alright." Caeldori looked thoughtfully at Soleil. "I… I like how brave you are in combat."

"R-really?"

Caeldori smiled. "What you lack in discipline, you make up for in determination. It's… it's very inspiring."

For once, Soleil's eternal smile became genuine around Caeldori. "Thank you. You know what? I do admire how talented you are, Caeldori. You have a real gift for being a soldier."

"Thank you."

"It's just… I wish you wouldn't look down on me. I'm sorry I'm not as disciplined as you. I'm sorry I don't spend all my time training. I'm tired of you acting like I don't care. I know I'm not the soldier you are, but I'm tired of you thinking of me as someone who isn't dedicated to our fight. I left the Grimleal to be with Ophelia. It made me a target. They even sent former members of my squad after me. I was close to some of them, so they sent them after me just to mess with my head. Some of those people were good men and women. I didn't want to fight them, but I had to. It was me or them. I did it because I believe in what we're doing. I left my mother to fight this fight. She's one of the greatest women in the whole world, and I left her alone to be here. Sometimes I send money to her, but I can never visit her. If the Grimleal found out about our relation, they'd kill the whole village just to get to me. I love her so much, but I may not see her for years. I left because I believe in this fight." Soleil looked Caeldori right in the eye. "I may not be like you, but I do care about what we do."

Caeldori nodded. "You're right. Maybe I am too dismissive of you. I-I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"It's just… I am the most experienced of us. I don't mean to control you. I just want to help."

"That's not a bad thing, Caeldori. You just need to loosen up a little."

Caeldori shrugged. "Maybe you're right. You know there's another thing I admire about you, Soleil. You almost never get embarrassed, no matter what you're doing. Sometimes… I wish I could talk to people like you talk to young women."

Soleil blushed. "You-you want to learn how to talk to girls?"

"Not literally. I just wish I had your confidence. I wish I could talk to boys like you talk to girls. It'd be nice to get to know them instead of just staring wistfully."

"Right! Yeah, of course not literally. You're not into girls. That would be too good to be true." Soleil muttered, her voice trailing off as the sentence went on until it was barely audible.

"I guess we could both teach each other things."

"Yeah. I guess we could."

Ophelia's face lit up. "Great! We're all friends now! Everyone can be happy again!"

Caeldori looked at Ophelia. "What do you mean everyone can be happy? Were you not?"

"Well… it was hard watching you two fight all the time."

"Everything has to be about you, huh Ophelia?" Soleil said in an annoyed tone. Caeldori nodded.

"Did you want us to stop fighting so that things would be easier for you? Our feelings don't matter?"

Ophelia looked back and forth between the two. "But, I just wanted to-"

Soleil turned to Caeldori. "Gods she can be annoying. At least she doesn't talk about fate, and the stars, and being the chosen heroine so much anymore."

Caeldori nodded. "That was annoying. I also wish she'd comb her hair more. I'm tired of that cowlick."

"Guys I'm standing right here!"

Soleil and Caeldori ignored her. "And she's always leaving tomes around!"

"And I wish she'd wear less revealing clothes. I'm tired of looking at her stomach."

"I don't know. I kind of like her outfit." Soleil glanced up at Caeldori, who was giving her an annoyed look. "I mean, how dare she!"

"Remember when she used to call her attacks?"

"Oh yeah! That was annoying."

Caeldori chuckled. "One time a Grimleal soldier hit her in the face because she spent too much time calling her attack, and the next day she still did it again!"

Soleil giggled. "Oh I have tons of Ophelia stories from before you even met her! You'll love these."

Ophelia face palmed as the two bonded over shared complaints of her. "You had to bring them together, Ophelia. You had to open your mouth, Ophelia." Ophelia turned and began to walk away when the serenity of the moment was obliterated by an ear rupturing blast. The three girls turned in panic as a thundering noise emanated from the forest, and an instant later a compressed blast of air almost threw them off their feet. They recovered and watched warily as a pillar of smoke rose from the forest. Ophelia and Soleil both looked to Caeldori, hoping that it was something she was familiar with. She gave them an apprehensive look.

"Whatever that was, it wasn't normal. We should go investigate."

"You want us to go towards the explosion?" Soleil said in an exasperated tone. Caeldori shot her a bitter glare.

"Can you just go along with what I say for once? Just once can you not fight me on something?"

"Just once can you suggest an idea that isn't crazy?"

Caeldori and Soleil faced each other down. "Why are you so hostile to my orders? I'm the more experienced soldier, and I've received actual combat training from an actual soldier."

"You're not our leader! Besides, I've received combat training! I was in the Grimleal, remember?"

"My instructor used to kill Grimleal soldiers before breakfast!"

Soleil was so caught up in her need to outshow Caeldori that she didn't put much thought into what she said. "Yeah well… my side won in the end!"

"You're on our side you dunderhead!"

"Yeah well… no you!"

"Evening, ladies!" The three turned to find a man standing behind them, a man that absolutely hadn't been there before. The man was standing between them and the cabin, cutting them off from it. For the most part the man wore unassuming grey, black, and dark brown clothing that was baggy and ill-fitting. He resembled a thief, but there were a few unusual things about him. Only the bottom of the man's face was visible. His eyes were covered by strange goggles. The goggles had a number of lenses in front of them, and each lense was attached in such a way that it could be flipped up and out of the way. It gave the man's face an almost robotic look. The man also wore a helmet that covered the top of his head, so that no hair was visible. The man was covered with weapons, but not common weapons. Instead the man was covered in very advanced gunpowder weaponry. The only melee weapon on the man was a small sword by his hip. Fuse lit grenades were attached to his vest, and two wheellock pistols were slung into his sash. Hanging at the man's back was a very large hand mortar, and also slung across his back was a long arquebus. Caeldori didn't react to it, but Ophelia and Soleil were gripped by fear as they remembered their experience with gunpowder weapons in Veslil. Finally the man had some kind of metal brace along his right arm, giving him a very mechanical appearance. The man seemed to have a toothpick in his mouth, but he pulled it out and revealed that it was a lollipop of all things. "I'm looking for an old man. Have you seen him?"

The three looked to each other. They were all unnerved by him, but they didn't back down. Instead the three girls took a step forward and readied their weapons. "Who-who are you?" Ophelia asked.

"Never you mind who I am. I'm looking for Chrom. Have you seen him?"

A chill ran down Ophelia's spine. She looked to Caeldori and Soleil, and they also realized that the man was likely with the Grimleal. The three nodded to each other and gave the man the most determined expressions they could. "We're not taking you to him."

"Girls, you look smart, so I'll make this as simple as possible. I'm going to put that old man in the dirt, and if you don't get in my way, I won't hurt you too. They don't pay me extra for additional bodies. I know he's here. I just want to make this as easy as I can. Are you helping me or not?"

Ophelia prepared to attack with her Missiletainn tome. "We're not afraid of you, and you can't take all three of us."

"Oh babies, don't play this game with me." The man leveled his arquebus at the three and fired. The bullet hit the side of Soleil's arm shield, tearing it off her arm. Soleil was uninjured, but the sheer force sent her flying backwards. Caeldori and Ophelia did a double take. "You're messing with the big leagues now."

* * *

Mercer and Cordelia made their way back to the cabin. Cordelia pulled Mercer down into a bush as they neared the front. "Wait! Don't run out. Someone's there. I can hear them."

"What?" Mercer looked to see a man standing over Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori. They looked uninjured, but they were tied together. The man circled them.

"Come on, girls. I don't want to hurt any of you, but I don't have any other sources of information. Just tell me where the old man is and we all get to walk out of here."

Ophelia shot the man a defiant look. "You're with the Grimleal aren't you?"

"Quit worrying about who I am, Blondie. Just know that we'll have problems if you don't tell me where Chrom is. Why are you so loyal to this old man anyways?"

"Because he's going to help us save the world." Soleil declared. "He's going to help us overthrow the Grimleal, and purge men like you from the land."

The man winced at Soleil's very high pitched voice. "Keep telling yourself that, Shrill. Chrom used to work with men like me. A lot actually."

"He would never work with an assassin like you."

The man laughed. "Well… I'll give you half credit for that one. I was no assassin back then, but he worked with plenty of horrible people. We were all killers. Murderers. We created piles of bodies for Chrom and his tactician."

Caeldori looked curiously at the man. "You knew him?"

The man walked over to Caeldori and knelt beside her. "You know, you look exactly like a woman I once knew. You're like a… copy."

"Go to hell."

"Well you certainly don't have her manners, Copy." The man stood up. "But yeah, I knew him."

"Who are you!"

The man turned to see Mercer rising from the bush, the Falchion in his hands. Cordelia desperately tried to fumble for him, but he left her so quickly that she fell over. The man smiled. "Well speak of the shadow dragon." He quickly pulled out his hand mortar and lit one of his grenades. The man then shoved it down the barrel and sent it hurtling towards Mercer. It stopped several meters in front of him and exploded into a rapidly expanding cloud of smoke. The man drew his sword and shot Mercer a devious smile as the smoke enveloped the area. It became so thick that Mercer couldn't see the cabin or the man anymore. He readied his Falchion and glanced around.

"What is this? Who are you?!"

"Don't recognize me, Chrom?"

Mercer looked around, still unable to tell where the man was. "How do you know me?" The man responded by charging at Mercer from behind. He barely deflected the attack, but the man did not counter. He ran back into the smoke and disappeared. "Show yourself!"

"Of course you don't recognize me. Us commoners always were beneath the notice of you blue bloods." The man charged at Mercer again. This time the two exchanged several sword blows before the man disappeared into the smoke. Mercer frantically looked around, and he noticed that the smoke was slowly dissipating.

"You can't hide forever!"

"Don't need to. I only need the drop on you." The man burst from the smoke cloud to Mercer's right and the two engaged in a bitter struggle. The man was much faster than Mercer, and Mercer hadn't fully recovered from his injuries, but Mercer could tell that he was more skilled with his sword. Mercer managed to disarm the man after a furious exchange of blows, and he held the Falchion to the man's neck. Mercer finally got a good look at the man, and he could tell from the man's skin that he was middle aged, but he couldn't figure out anything else about him. The man's face was mostly obscured by a helmet and strange goggles of some kind. The man slowly moved his arms to the side and had very nervous breathing, but he didn't stop smiling.

"It's over." Mercer pressed the Falchion closer to the man's neck. "Now tell me why you're attacking us!"

"Why? Really? That's your question? I think it's pretty obvious why people want you dead."

"How do you know me?"

"We know each other, Chrom. You must think us commoners stupid to not know of your activities. You must think we pick daisies, and stare at tourist attractions, and eat bonbons all day."

Mercer's eyes widened. He was sure he had heard those words before. "You-you… you're-"

The man didn't let him finish. He revealed that the metal brace along his arm was part of a pistol sleeve, and in an instant Mercer found a small holdout pistol pointed at his abdomen. Mercer grappled with the man and managed to point the pistol up and away from him, but it still went off right by his ear. Mercer reeled in pain as a ringing noise took his left ear, and the man took advantage of the situation to attack. He brutally struck at Mercer with his fists and finished by kicking him in his bad knee. Mercer fell to the ground in agony, and the man finished with a kick to his face. Mercer struggled to get up, and he noticed Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori looking on in horror. He turned to the man, tears rolling down his cheeks from the sheer agony. "Don't hurt them! Please! Don't hurt them."

"Don't worry. I'm not like you. I won't get innocent people killed."

"What do you want with me?"

"Someone paid a lot of money to have you killed. It's as simple as that. It's not personal… well that's not true, but I'm doing my job."

"I think… I think I know who you are, but the man I knew was no assassin."

"Figured it out did you? Granted I didn't use gunpowder weapons back then. They weren't very widespread. They are handy though. Swinging a sword around is a young man's game." The man took off his helmet, revealing graying, bright orange hair. "Anyways, I may not look like the man I was thirty years ago, but I _am_." The man finally removed his goggles. Mercer immediately felt a surge of guilt, the same feeling he had when he first saw Cordelia again.

"Gaius."

Gaius gave a small smile. "Yes. It's been a long time hasn't it, Blue."

"You were never an assassin! You had a moral code! Why are you working with the Grimleal?!"

"To be fair I don't like the Grimleal, but they really want you dead. I can buy a lot of sweets for 250,000 gold."

"What's wrong with you?!"

"Shut your mouth. You did this to me. You and Bubbles."

"What?!"

"You're right. I did use to have a moral code. I never took a life on the job. I never took a life outside of self defense. That was before I joined the Shepherds. You and Robin, you made me kill. Constantly. I was just a thief, but you made me a soldier! Did you ever realize how many people we killed?! We were just a few dozen people, but we killed hundreds, maybe thousands. I know most of them were bad people, but they were still human beings! You and Robin turned me into a machine! The killing never stopped! It never stopped! I know it was to save the world, but they were still human beings! We made mountains of bodies for you and Robin. You made me a murderer." Gaius had to pause and collect himself. "I told myself it was for the greater good. I told myself that the people we fought deserved it. I told myself that we were protecting the world. I told myself… this is war. This is what we do. All that killing… it gets to you. It stains your soul. I can't eat food without it tasting like dirt. I keep eating candy but it all tastes like mush anymore. I can't drink anything without it tasting like stale water that's been in the sun for hours. I can't be with a woman without it feeling like a corpse. When I look at people I just see puppets. Living people are puppets on strings, and dead people are puppets with the strings cut. When you kill someone, you're just cutting the strings. That's all it is. You and Robin… you made me into this."

"You blame me for what you've become?" Mercer asked bitterly. Gaius looked him right in the eye.

"You didn't make me the best assassin in the continent. I did that myself. You're the reason why I can do this work, though. I never took a life as a thief, but you and Robin made me a murderer. You both acted like our foes were just enemy pieces in a game, but this isn't a game! This is real life! Those were human beings. Did it even get to you?"

"Of course it did. Not a day goes by that I don't remember it, but it was for the greater good."

Gaius chuckled. "I remember when I believed that. I told myself it was for the good of the world. I told myself that if Chrom and Robin believed it was necessary, then it must have been for the good of the world. I trusted you. I believed in your cause. When you betrayed me… when you betrayed all of us… you made me realize how cruel the world is. You taught me that nothing matters except survival. Now I survive, and you're just a broken man." Mercer didn't respond. He just hung his head, and Gaius drew one of his pistols. "For the record I could have put a bullet in your head from a distance, but I had to get one last look at you first. Look how old you've become." Gaius pointed the pistol at Mercer as Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori desperately cried out for him. "This is for my wife and daughter."

Gaius was so focused on Mercer that he didn't notice another woman run up behind him until she was almost on top of him. At the last moment he turned and pointed his pistol at the woman, while the woman brought a knife to his throat. The two stood in shock. "Cordelia?!"

Cordelia had overheard part of the conversation, and the man's voice confirmed what she had suspected. "Gaius!"

"What… why are… are you blind?!"

"A lot changes in thirty years."

"Yes. Yes it does."

"Don't do this, Gaius."

Gaius' pistol had been shaking, but he steeled himself and pointed it right at Cordelia's eye. Cordelia showed no fear, though she might not have known it was even there. "Don't talk to me like that! You have no idea what I've had to do to survive." Gaius waved his pistol at Mercer. "Besides, he deserves it! He ruined our lives! I bet he made you blind!"

Cordelia's lip trembled. "Yes… but you can't do this!"

"It's my job."

"You're better than this, Gaius. You need to stop blaming him for what happened."

"He did it!"

"Cordelia is right!" Caeldori shouted. "He's a good man! He's sorry about what happened!"

"Yeah all he does is angst about it." Soleil chimed in. "He's a broken man. 'Oh my wife is dead. Oh my children are dead. Oh my sisters are dead.' It's all he's ever on about. He feels sorry about what happened! Really."

Ophelia tried to look at Gaius sympathetically. "I know he's a good man. Whatever happened, I'm sure he did his best to stop it. Please forgive him! He regrets not being able to stop the Grimleal from killing his friends. It wasn't his fault, though. I know he would have done anything to stop it. He's sorry!"

Gaius was shaking with anger, yet he gave a strange smile. "You… you three don't know. Cordelia didn't tell you. I know Chrom didn't tell you. No wonder you follow him. You don't know."

"Know what?"

"How the Shepherds fell. He didn't tell you. Of course he didn't tell you. If you knew, IF YOU KNEW, you wouldn't think so highly of him."

"It wasn't his fault!"

"SHUT UP!"

Gaius walked towards Chrom, ignoring Cordelia's blade, and knelt beside him. "Tell them."

Mercer slowly looked up. "Gaius, please."

Gaius hit him with his pistol. "Tell them! Tell them what really happened!"

"Gaius, stop!" Cordelia yelled. Gaius pointed his pistol at Chrom.

"Tell them, of I'll fill you with as many holes as I can before you bleed to death."

"It won't change what happened!"

"THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW! THEY NEED TO KNOW JUST HOW HORRIBLE YOU REALLY ARE! Tell them right now! I'm not going to let you lead more young people to their deaths! Tell them right now!"

Mercer looked up at the three girls. They were angry with Gaius, but they also seemed curious about what happened. Part of them seemed to want to hear the story. "Gaius, please."

Gaius dropped his pistol on the ground. "Tell them, and I'll let them go unharmed. I won't do anything to them, but only if you tell them. Every detail. Tell them the whole story."

Mercer was silent for a long time, but he couldn't find a way out. He wasn't sure if Gaius was capable of hurting innocent people, but a lot had changed in thirty years. If there was a chance of making sure nothing happened to Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori, he had to take it. Reluctantly, Mercer looked up at the three girls and told them exactly what had happened thirty years ago.

* * *

Chrom stood alongside his younger sister in the camp's nursery. He gently rocked his infant daughter back and forth in an attempt to calm her. She wasn't crying, but she was making uncomfortable wails and squirming so badly that Chrom almost couldn't hold her. Nothing he did seemed to help. Chrom looked to Lissa, and she smiled warmly. "I hear that when a baby is squirmy like that, they need to be burped."

"Oh, alright. I'll try that." Chrom forcibly patted his infant daughter on the back, which caused her to actually start crying. "I uh, don't know how to do this. Lissa would you mind getting my wife? I think she's in the mess hall."

"I can help."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense. I love to spend time with my niece." Lissa took the infant Lucina in her arms and gently burped her. "There, there, sweetie. Your aunt Lissa has you now." Lissa smiled as Lucina calmed down, but she glanced up at Chrom to find him looking at her uncomfortably. "Yeesh, Chrom. Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to drop her or anything! I'm a parent too."

"What? No, no! It's nothing like that. I just… I've had a headache all morning. It just got worse in the past few seconds."

"Do you need to lie down?"

"I just… I could use some fresh air."

Lissa nodded and playfully bounced the infant Lucina up and down as Chrom walked out into the open. A number of the Shepherds outside turned and waved at him as he walked by, but he didn't notice. The pain in his head grew worse every second until he fell to his knees and clasped his head. Sounds suddenly became deafening, and lights became bright and wavy. Chrom couldn't see more than a few centimeters in front of him, and every noise he heard seemed to blend together. "Oh gods! Gah! What is this?" Chrom kneeled in pain for several seconds before the feeling finally faded. He rose to his feet and exhaled as lights and sounds became tolerable again. "Ah! Finally. That was weird." Chrom went back into the nursery. "It was nothing, Lissa. I feel better now-AAAGH!"

In an instant, fears Chrom never even realized he had came to life. Lissa was nowhere to be seen. Chrom could see his infant daughter, but his sister was no longer holding her. Lucina was being held by a Risen. The monstrosity roared at Chrom as he entered the nursery. Chrom drew his Falchion. His blood felt like it was going to boil right out of his skin, and he could barely form coherent words. "LISSA! WHERE ARE YOU?!" The Risen just roared louder. Chrom didn't have much time to think. He would not allow this monster to hurt his family. "GET BACK!" Chrom threw himself forwards and slashed off the Risen's forearms. He caught his daughter before she even started to fall and quickly placed her in her crib. He then turned and hacked the Risen to pieces, slicing off its arms at the shoulders, its legs, and finally decapitating it. Chrom then ran outside of the nursery. "Lissa! Where are-"

The camp was filled with Risen. Dozens of them. They all turned to Chrom and roared. They didn't charge at him, but they shrieked and clanged their weapons together. Chrom panicked and glanced around. "LISSA! ROBIN?! ANYONE! WHAT'S HAPPENING?" The Risen roared even louder, so Chrom retreated back into the nursery. The screaming had awoken the infants inside, and now almost all of them were crying. Chrom looked in horror at the children of the Shepherds, the ones actually born to this time. He refused to think about what would happen if the Risen got in. He had no idea where anyone else was, or how so many Risen had gotten into the camp so suddenly, but none of that mattered. He had to protect the babies.

Chrom charged out of the nursery. Oddly, the Risen seemed to have forgotten about him. Chrom didn't care. He went up to the closest one and brought the Falchion through its abdomen, and the Risen fell over and disappeared in a flash as all Risen did when killed. At this point the other Risen all turned to Chrom and roared. He didn't give them any time to react. He roared right back and threw himself at the next closest Risen. The Risen didn't fight back until Chrom had killed five or six of them, and even then they didn't try to kill him. They tried to disarm him or restrain him. At one point they tackled him to the ground, and Chrom had to brutally force them off of him. He fought as viciously as he could to make sure that none got away. He couldn't let any slip into the nursery. He cut off limbs. He broke knees. He slashed out eyes. He maneuvered so that Risen would hit each other when they tried to hit him. He fought until his arms felt like they wanted to fall off and his legs screamed at him, and he kept fighting. Whenever he was disarmed of the Falchion, he disarmed the Risen and used their weapons, or he killed with his bare hands. At one point he gouged out eyes with his bare fingers.

The Risen were everywhere. They were in the tents. They were in the food storage. After Chrom managed to clear out most of them, he went around making sure that none were hiding. He even had to chase some of them down, but he never went far from the nursery. At one point he saw a Risen trying to mount a horse and flee, which wasn't a behavior he had ever seen them do. The whole situation was undeniably strange. Chrom shouted for help whenever he could, but the other Shepherds were nowhere to be found. He feared the worst, yet he never found any of their bodies. Nevertheless, he killed the Risen and returned to the nursery. There he found what appeared to be the source of the attack.

A Risen Chief raised its sword and shrieked. Chrom roared at the top of his lungs and attacked, driving it away from the nursery. Chrom and the Risen Chief fought for almost twenty minutes. It was unusually skilled, in fact it was easily the most powerful Risen Chrom had ever fought. It was able to match him blow for blow, and even seemed to use a similar fighting style to him. Chrom couldn't find an opening, and his body screamed at him to give up, but he couldn't stop thinking of the infants. The thought of anything happening to them was unacceptable. Chrom fought and fought until he finally exploited an opening to slash off the Risen Chief's arms. For a few seconds the Risen Chief still refused to go down, so Chrom drove the Falchion through its abdomen. Once again Chrom's headache returned, and lights and sounds began to blur around him. When the feeling abated and Chrom looked back to the Risen Chief, he realized there was no Risen in front of him. Once more he saw a fear he didn't even know he had come to life in front of him.

Chrom froze in abject terror as his own daughter slowly died on his blade. Lucina was covered with so much blood that Chrom could barely see the blue in her outfit. She struggled to take breaths and shivered uncontrollably. Slowly, she brought her eyes to meet Chrom's horrified gaze, and she smiled. She realized that her father was in control of himself again. "F-father. Y-you're… back."

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?! **_WHAT'S HAPPENING_**?!"

"Father… whatever this was… it wasn't… your-"

Lucina's head hung down and she finally couldn't carry herself anymore. She fell downwards, taking the Falchion lodged in her abdomen with her. Chrom couldn't think anything. He could barely feel anything. A billion thoughts and emotions waged war with each other over the chance to appear in his mind as a coherent idea, and Chrom couldn't even imagine doing anything else other than standing still and looking on in terror. Slowly Chrom turned around and looked back at the camp. Deep down he knew what he'd find, but it shook him to his soul regardless.

There never were any Risen. The bodies of the Shepherds were scattered around the camp. Chrom's mind couldn't process so much death, nevermind his own hand in it all. He just fell to his knees, stared aimlessly into space, and gave one last feral howl of anguish at the whole damn world before blacking out.

* * *

Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori stared blankly at Mercer. He had their undivided attention, but they had no idea how to feel about everything they'd just learned. Soleil was the first to speak up. "You… killed our fathers?" She almost whispered in a flat tone. Mercer broke down crying.

"I killed them all!"

Gaius pulled at his clothing to expose his bare chest. A long scar ran diagonally down his abdomen. "He missed my heart by a few centimeters. He blinded Cordelia. The only reason why any of us survived is because he thought we were dead."

The three girls looked at Cordelia. "Grandmother?!" Caeldori exclaimed. "Is this-"

"Yes. All of it."

The three girls stared into space in shock, and Gaius turned to Cordelia. "How can you help this man? After everything he's done, how can you stand up for him!"

"I know you hate him, but look at him. Look how old and weak he's become. Look how broken he is." Gaius turned to look at Mercer. "Is killing a man like that really going to make everything better."

"No… but I'll make a lot of money. If anything I'll be doing him a favor."

"It wasn't his fault! He was hallucinating!"

"You think that because he had glowing purple eyes the whole time, that he isn't responsible!"

"Gangrel and Aversa did something to him!"

"But he is still the one who did it!"

"Well I forgive him." Cordelia stepped towards Gaius. "And I won't let you kill him."

"You can't stop me."

"Maybe not. You might have changed in thirty years, but I haven't. Not like you have. You knew me back then Gaius, so you know what I'm like. I don't give up, and I promise you that part of me hasn't changed. I will do anything I can to keep you from hurting him. Either I kill you, with my bare hands if I have to, or you kill me and then him. I will not stand here and let you hurt him."

"You can't hope to beat me."

"Maybe not, but you know I'll try. Can you do that, Gaius? Can you kill me?"

Gaius drew his other pistol. "I've had to do a lot of things I never thought I'd do."

"Then do it. I won't stand here while you shoot him. I will attack you, so it'll have to be me, then him."

"You don't have to die for him!"

"Shoot me, Gaius. Me, then him."

Gaius didn't point his pistol at Cordelia. He just stood there holding it for some time. Finally he dropped it and knelt beside Mercer, who was still sobbing. "Listen here. You are and always will be a miserable pile of trash, but I'm not going to fight Cordelia for you. She doesn't deserve that. I don't know how you inspire such loyalty, but if I ever hear from you again, I'll kill you free of charge. I'm not going to let you ruin people's lives like you ruined our lives. Ever again." Gaius kicked Mercer in the face before pulling out a small sack. "Here's some medicine for your sad little army." With that, Gaius retrieved his weapons and left. Cordelia untied the girls and went to comfort Mercer.

The girls didn't join her.


	12. The Reavers

Gangrel stood in his throne room and watched as High Inquisitor Aversa and dozens of her Inquisitors walked into the palace. The palace guards, all clad in heavy blue and gold armor with the Mark of Grima engraved on it, bowed before Aversa as she walked by. Along one side of the throne room were Gangrel's Enforcers and officers. They did not bow to Aversa or her Inquisitors. As Aversa walked by, her Inquisitors broke off one by one and took positions opposite of the Enforcers at the other end of the room. By the time Aversa reached Gangrel, there were two lines of Grimleal agents on the two ends of the room. They leered and glared at each other.

The mood between Gangrel and Aversa themselves wasn't much better. Gangrel gave an incredibly feigned smile as Aversa stepped towards him and bowed. "High Inquisitor! How nice of you to come down from High Point."

"Emperor! How nice to see you wearing your official attire, instead of that dreadful thing you pieced together from people who died thirty years ago."

"I am in no mood for this, woman!"

"Whereas I just love to spend time with you." Aversa said sarcastically.

"You're the one who came here!"

"The Fell Dragon ordered me to come here. It refused to speak with me at High Point. It wanted to talk to us both."

Gangrel looked Aversa up and down. She hadn't appeared to have aged a day in thirty years, but he knew very well that it was fake. Nothing about Aversa could be taken at face value. "You of all people criticize my appearance? I can always take off my outfit, but you're stuck casting illusions on yourself to make your appearance bearable."

Aversa gave a fake smile of her own. "Oh sweetie. We proved long ago that you just aren't capable of being my intellectual sounding board, but I appreciate your attempt at a battle of wits."

"Why don't you just go back to playing with dark magic with your Inquisitors. Leave the actual ruling and governing of humanity to me. After all, I was the King of Plegia. You were just a sycophantic cultist."

"The Fell Dragon appreciates my loyalty. You're just a puppet ruler. Now why don't you go back to doing nothing until someone pulls on your strings, like a good puppet."

"Don't talk to me like that, woman!"

"You think I want to spend time with you?"

Gangrel shoved Aversa, and Aversa shoved him back. The two looked at each other for a few seconds before trying to tackle each other to the ground. At the sight of their leaders fighting, the throne room rapidly devolved into an all out brawl as Aversa's Inquisitors and Gangrel's Enforcers went at each other, relieving workplace stress in the most violent way possible. The Grimleal members had just enough sense to avoid pulling out their weapons, for if they did the royal guard would descend on them. So long as everyone only used their fists, the royal guardsmen couldn't be bothered to lift a finger. They stood unmoving in dissonant silence as the other Grimleal members around them threw down like bar patrons. It was a bewildering sight. The throne room was ornately decorated with the finest luxuries available, and its dedicated guardsmen stood disciplined and still, yet the government agents inside acted like they were in a slum riot. Gangrel's Enforcers and Aversa's Inquisitors got along with each other about as well as their leaders did, and the two organizations took jabs at each other whenever they could. Sometimes they actively sabotaged each other. Sometimes they withheld resources and information from each other. Sometimes they just settled things with their fists. The Enforcers and Inquisitors punched each other, kicked each other, poked eyes, threw things, put each other in armlocks and chokeholds, tore clothing, pulled hair, gave wet willies, called names, insulted parents, wives, husbands, and children, and generally behaved like kids yet to learn sportsmanship. The leaders of the human race and the representatives of the Fell Dragon itself squabbled and bickered like children really, and at the center of it all were Gangrel and Aversa themselves. Gangrel had Aversa in a headlock and was forcibly rubbing his knuckles along the top of her head when the Anointed Ones entered the throne room. As soon as they did, Gangrel and Aversa stopped fighting and straightened themselves out. The other members of the Grimleal soon followed suit. By the time all the Anointed Ones were in the room, no one was moving.

The Anointed Ones were men and women who had given their lives to caring for the Hierophant. The Hierophant was Grima's body. The Fell Dragon would possess it whenever it needed to talk to human members of the Grimleal. At all other times the Hierophant was unconscious, and so his every need had to be tended to. This was the task of the Anointed Ones. They fed the Hierophant, cleaned him, tended to his waste, massaged him, and applied a number of magical rituals to reduce the effects of aging.

The Anointed Ones carried the Hierophant in a casket plated with solid gold, and they silently carried this casket all the way to the steps of the throne room. They opened the casket and carefully lifted the Hierophant's inanimate body out of it. The Hierophant was completely naked. The care he had received from the Anointed Ones kept the Hierophant's body in good shape, but it was still starting to show signs of aging. The man had very pale skin and stark white hair. Gangrel and Aversa recoiled at the sight of the Hierophant. Though they had seen him many times, they could never get used to the sight of him. They had once known the man before he became the Hierophant. Back then his hair was still white, but he was young and lively. He had once been their enemy. He had once fought against the Grimleal. He was once something they hated, something they feared. He was once a man that had fought to stop the Fell Dragon. Gangrel and Aversa once knew him as Robin.

Robin was the child of Validar, the former leader of the Grimleal. He had been born to be the Hierophant. It was his destiny to be Grima's body, but Robin's mother took him away. Robin became the tactician of the Shepherds. He fought against both Gangrel and Aversa, and he won countless victories for them. He even married and had two children. He tried his damndest to escape from his destiny, but in the end the will of a single human could not resist the Fell Dragon. When the Shepherds fell, Robin was found injured but alive. The Grimleal broke him until he became the Hierophant willingly, and helped to bring about the end of the "Human Regime". Gangrel and Aversa had once hated him, but they were still sickened every time they saw him now. No one could deserve this.

The Anointed Ones slowly lowered the Hierophant to the ground, and then immediately bowed. Everyone else in the throne room, Gangrel and Aversa included, soon followed. Purple energy began to circle around the Hierophant, and six glowing blood red eyes appeared above his face. The Hierophant's body was covered by strange plate armor that seemed to materialize from the purple energy. It was pitch black, yet had a noticeable purple sheen, and had spikes randomly and chaotically protruding it. It looked beyond anything a human metallurgist could ever make. The Hierophant began to hover off the ground until he was standing on his feet. At this point he was fully armored, and the six glowing eyes dominated his face. Whatever remained of Robin's consciousness was now gone. Grima had possessed its human vessel.

"Lord Grima." Gangrel and Aversa both said.

Grima looked down on them. "Get up." Its inhuman voice stated in a dismissive tone. Gangrel and Aversa slowly rose to their feet, both trying as hard as they could to contain their trepidation. It was virtually impossible to tell how Grima was feeling behind those six glowing eyes, and Gangrel and Aversa tended to assume that it was always angry. "Why does Chrom still live?" Grima's voice reverberated through the throne room, shaking the foundation itself.

"He's still… you mean the assassin…" Gangrel tried to think of a way out. "Why… why does it matter? He's just one man." Gangrel winced, knowing even as he said them that those weren't the right words. Grima stared intently at Gangrel, and he suddenly found blood running from his nose.

"DO NOT QUESTION ME!" The entire throne room briefly shook, and blood surged out of Gangrel's nose. He tried to cover it and nodded sheepishly.

"S-sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Chrom can wield the Falchion. He can kill me! This is my world. I will not allow the spawn of the Hero King to run around in my world. There is also another. A woman named Ophelia. She can wield the Falchion. She could kill me."

Aversa stood up straight. "Lord Grima, with all due respect, what are the odds?"

"Your primitive and bestial grasp at intelligence cannot begin to understand what I see. I have peered into other timelines. I have seen Chrom or his accursed daughter slay me with the Falchion. I will not allow this possibility to exist in this timeline. When you two negotiated humanity's surrender, you told me that humanity would never get in my way." Grima took a step forward, and Gangrel and Aversa scurried backwards. "You're getting in my way."

Gangrel briefly turned his handmaiden, the same woman that tended to his young daughter, finding her cowering behind a royal guard. He frantically gestured for some water, and the woman hurried away. Gangrel turned back to Grima and gave a sheepish smile. "Uh, well… I'll take care of it! I'll kill him! I will!"

"If you don't, I will reflect on my decision to spare what remains of your kind. You will be the emperor of nothing!" Grima then turned to Aversa. "You! I want you to focus more resources on Project: Xenologue. I know your forces constantly bicker with Gangrel's forces. They're wasting time! You're wasting my time!"

Aversa took deep breaths and tried her best to stay dignified. "Of course, Lord Grima."

Gangrel's handmaiden returned with two glasses of water. She handed one to Gangrel, but tripped as she tried to hand the other glass to Aversa, spraying water all over Grima. For a moment everyone in the palace froze in horror. Grima briefly looked down at the water on the Hierophant's body, then turned to the handmaiden. It grabbed her by the throat, lifted her well off of her feet, and then slammed her into the palace floor with such force that it shattered. She didn't move again after that. Grima then turned to Gangrel and Aversa, who were wide eyed and completely unmoving. Grima nodded its head, and the two suddenly fell over in agony. They ran their hands through their hair as a sharp pain appeared in their heads, and blood poured from their ears, eyes, noses, and mouths. "YOU TWO WASTE MY TIME!"

Grima's every word caused a small earthquake, and several people in the room were knocked from their feet. Gangrel and Aversa spasmed uncontrollably, and at this point they were soaked in their own blood. "We're sorry! We're sorry!" Gangrel cried out.

"My will be done!" Grima extended its arms to the side, and once more the Hierophant was surrounded by purple energy. The armor disappeared, and the six glowing eyes disappeared from his face. The swirling mass of energy circled the Hierophant until he was naked, and the body fell limp and unmoving. The Anointed Ones were there to catch him before he hit the floor, and they carefully lifted him up and placed him back in the casket. Gangrel and Aversa slowly rose to their feet and wiped the blood off their faces as they left. Aversa turned and shoved Gangrel.

"You idiot! This is all your fault! We should have hunted down Chrom thirty years ago, but no! You were too busy taking trophies off the bodies!"

"What are you mad about, woman! I'm the one who has to find a new handmaiden." Gangrel turned around to find his attendant loyally standing by him.

"Is there anything you need, milord?"

"Yes. Bring me a handkerchief, and a new pair of pants."

"Of course, milord."

"Bring High Inquisitor Aversa nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Of course, milord."

"Finally, mobilize my chief enforcer."

The attendant's stoic face was briefly taken by shock. "Your chief enforcer!"

"Yes. No more assassins. I'm doing playing games. I want a professional to handle this."

* * *

In a chamber deep beneath Gangrel's throne room, two men stood looking down on a young woman. The woman was forcibly restrained to a chair, and she desperately struggled against her bonds. The younger of the men circled her. The elder stood to the side, carefully watching everything.

"ASCENSION." The man circling the young woman yelled at her. "WISTFULLY. AERONAUTICAL." The woman violently convulsed, whipping her long, navy blue hair around as she did so, and roared at the top of her lungs. The man didn't stop. "KYMATOLOGY. ECDEMOMANIA. NIDIFUGOUS." The woman finally stopped spasming at this point, but she didn't stop screaming. Her cries became a long, unbroken wail, reminiscent of a banshee. Still the man didn't stop. "INTUSSUSCEPTION. NECROSIS. GARRISON."

The woman immediately fell silent and stared at her feet. The man slowly stepped in front of her. "Good morning, comrade." The woman quickly looked up at him.

"E-13 is ready for compliance."

The younger man stepped aside and the older man quickly knelt in front of the woman. He held out his finger. "E-13, look at me. Look at daddy. Look at me." The woman slowly brought her eyes to the man. "Look at my finger." The man moved his finger around, and the woman followed it with her eyes. The man stood up and turned to his assistant. "She's as ready as she'll ever be. Undo the restraints." The man walked towards the door at the end of the room and nodded towards a royal guard standing to the side. The guard nodded back and walked through the door. The man straightened his long white robes and stood erect as the guard returned with a man that had been waiting outside. The man was wearing a rudimentary black suit of tactical gear fashioned from leather and segmented plate armor over black mage robes, and his face was obscured by a mask reminiscent of a skull. The man didn't seem to have arms. Instead prosthetics were attached to him at the shoulders. The prosthetics were very loose approximations of human arms, but he had no hands. The prosthetics ended in large gauntlets like the end of a warhammer. The gauntlets were attached to the arms through sockets, and it was possible that they could be traded for more convenient substitutions of the human hand, but the man couldn't be sure. The prosthetic arms weren't solid constructions. Rather, the different pieces of the arms were held together by swirling bands of dark magic. It was like nothing the man had ever seen. The armored man seemed to notice the attention paid to his prosthetics, and he responded with a harsh glare. The man steeled himself and looked his visitor in the eye. "Hello. My name is Dr. Kryczek. The Reaver program is my brainchild. I developed the neural conditioning necessary to turn violent criminals and political prisoners into loyal soldiers."

"So you're the reason why they'll do anything you ask them to?" The man responded in a brutish and raspy voice.

"Yes."

"Neat." The man extended his armored gauntlet. "My name is Courtney."

"Am I… am I expected to-"

"Just shake my damn gauntlet!"

Reluctantly Kryczek shook Courtney's prosthetic arm. "Courtney? I know that name. You were a Lord Lieutenant right?"

"I was. Then I lost my power base. They made me part of The Rockpile, but I lost that job too."

"What happened?"

"Chrom and his sad little harem happened. They took away my face, then my arms."

"They cut off your arms?"

"You try falling off a mountain and see if you still have all your limbs. Anyways, they gave me a psychological evaluation afterwards. They told me I hated them too much. They told me I wasn't stable. They told me I wasn't eligible to be a regular officer anymore, but they said I'd be perfect for this job."

"So you're operations commander because you hate them so much?"

"Now you're getting it."

Kryczek rolled his eyes and ran his hand along his frazzled beard, a beard that had turned gray from stress long before age could take its toll. "Of course they had to send a brute."

"Just point me at my newest toy."

"She's not a toy! She's my life's work. Follow me." Kryczek scurried down the hall, and Courtney slowly rumbled behind him. Kryczek stopped by the woman. Her restraints had been undone, but she still sat in the chair, patiently waiting for instruction. Kryczek turned to her. "E-13 darling, allow me to introduce you to the operations commander of your next assignment. This man is named Courtney." Courtney stood over the woman, and when she stood up she barely went up to the top of his chest.

"This… this is Gangrel's chief enforcer? This is the woman who killed so many people? I thought she'd be taller? She's a little girl!"

"I assure you she is capable of this mission."

"You know, there's something on her eye. On her left eye there's some kind of…" Courtney leaned in and got very close to the woman. She didn't so much as flinch. Courtney stared at the woman's left eye until he could make out a very distinctive brand on it. The Mark of Naga. Courtney jumped almost a meter backwards. "Gah! This… this is… THIS IS-"

"Quiet! I know who she _reminds_ you of, but I assure you she is not that woman. Lucina is dead. E-13 is a symbol of the new world order."

"How… how is this possible?!"

"When the Shepherds fell, their infant children were taken by the Grimleal. I experimented on them to develop the neural conditioning for the Reaver program, and they became the first Reavers. Gangrel wanted Chrom's infant daughter to be his personal enforcer, however. I've worked with E-13 since she was an infant. I turned her into the greatest warrior in the world."

"Gangrel really is a sick bastard isn't he?!"

"I could report you for that comment, but I'd rather get to work."

"What does E-13 mean?"

"Experiment number thirteen."

"What were the other experiments?"

"That's classified."

Courtney sighed. "Of course it is."

Kryczek inspected E-13, who had been standing perfectly still the entire time. "Allow me to personally protest her deployment on this assignment. She just isn't ready. She is far more powerful than any other Reaver, but her conditioning isn't perfect. She follows orders without question, and she kills with unparalleled efficiency and brilliancy, but she's dangerous. She flies into blood rages where she'll kill anything she sees. I've seen her kill civilians."

"Collateral damage."

"I've seen her kill Grimleal soldiers!"

"They're just Reavers."

"I've seen her continue to fight ever after being covered in injuries!"

"Ooh. She's tougher than she looks."

"She's not ready!"

"I don't care. Gangrel personally requested her. Besides, I only need her to kill. She can do that right?"

"Well… yes, but-"

Courtney looked at E-13. "You and I are going to have a lot of fun together, girl."

"Ready for compliance."

"Is that all she can say?"

"She only has a few predetermined responses."

"Hey girl, how do you feel about the weather?"

"Ready for compliance."

"Do you like to go dancing?"

"Ready for compliance."

"How do you feel about current events?"

"Hail, Grima."

"Well that gets old."

Kryczek stepped in between E-13 and Courtney. "Well you don't need to talk to her! She's not your servant. She's Gangrel's chief enforcer. You are in charge of this operation, but you do not own her!"

"Whatever. She'll do whatever I say right?"

"She'll do whatever _I_ say. I'm the only one she'll listen to."

"Fair enough. Get your tactical gear, doc. We're leaving." Courtney pushed Kryczek out of the way and looked at E-13. "This is what's going to happen, girl. I'm going to take you to see a man you haven't seen in a very, _very_ long time, and together we're going to kill him."

"Ready for compliance."

"I like her already."


	13. The Twice Born

Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori sat a table as Cordelia and Mercer stood over them. Mercer was sullen and sheepish, and he rarely glanced over at the girls. Cordelia stood by his side as if to reassure him, and she stood facing the three. "Girls, it's been days since we encountered that assassin, and Chrom tells me that you three have barely spoken a word to him since then." The three girls looked over at Mercer, and he hung his head. "I know you three likely have some strong feelings towards him after what you learned, so I think it's best if we air them. It's not good to keep them inside."

Soleil crossed her arms. "Oh I don't think the old man will like anything we have to say to him."

Cordelia sighed. "Soleil, please. The best thing to do right now is talk about this. If you say your feelings out loud, you won't dwell on them anymore. You'll feel much better. Would… would anyone like to start?"

The three girls looked to each other, and Ophelia eventually stood up. She slowly walked over to Mercer. "Mercer I uh… oh, wow. This is hard." Ophelia glanced up at Mercer. His gaze was filled with sadness and remorse. Ophelia looked down at her feet and took a deep breath. "Mercer… I don't hate you. I don't. I know that what happened isn't your fault." Ophelia looked back to Mercer, but he still gave her a solemn look. Ophelia glanced over to Cordelia, and she smiled and urged her to continue. "But… but I… I'm afraid of you."

Cordelia frowned. "Afraid?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I just… I can't stop picturing it. You loved them. They were your friends and family, but it didn't stop you. You told us that you last saw your sister, my grandmother, holding your daughter. You told us that you hacked apart a Risen that was holding your daughter. That means… your own… oh gods. I can't help but be afraid of you now. I'm sorry."

Mercer's lip quivered and Cordelia put her hand on his shoulder. "It's alright." She whispered to him. She turned back to Ophelia. "Thank you, Ophelia. It's good to tell others what's bothering us. Do you feel better now?"

"I… I guess."

Cordelia nodded and turned to Soleil. "Would anyone else like to share?"

Soleil didn't look up, and her face scrunched up with frustration. "I can feel that dead stare of yours through your blindfold."

"Just share with us, Soleil. It'll help."

"Will it?"

"Yes."

Soleil groaned and walked over to Mercer. She got uncomfortably close to him and looked him dead in the eye. "You killed my father, and I don't want anything to do with you."

Mercer choked back a look of pain and Cordelia shot a nasty glance at Soleil. "Soleil!"

"What?! You told me to share my feelings! My mother had to raise me alone because of this man! She is the greatest woman in the world, and she had to work her fingers to the bone every day just so we could get by! It's all because I had no father!" Soleil turned back to Mercer. "And it's all your fault! When I first got to know you by that campfire with Ophelia, I feared that you were just a broken shell of a man. I thought that interacting with you was a fundamental waste of time. I was right. I should have listened to myself."

"Soleil that's enough!" Cordelia shouted. Soleil's expression twisted with anger and she threw herself in Cordelia's face, repeatedly jamming her finger into her chest and forcing her backwards.

"SHUT UP! Your opinion doesn't mean anything to me! When you trained the three of us, you always looked down on me! You called me a slacker, a pervert, undedicated, and you said I'd never make it as a Pegasus Knight. Now though, now I see that you have no right to talk down to me. You may be a much better soldier than me, but you're barely even a woman!"

"Excuse me?!"

"You are just a mindless, soulless drone. Your feelings for him blind you. Of course you can't think negatively about him! You were brainwashed into being unable to think anything bad about him! The Pegasus Knights brainwashed young women into being mindless servants of the Exalt, so of course you're incapable of realizing how horrible he is! You're just a weapon! A tool! You're not capable of independent thought! You of all people have no right to talk down to me!" Soleil walked back to Mercer and stuck her finger in his face. "If you were really sorry, you would have died with them." With that, Soleil stormed out of the house and into the front yard. Ophelia stood up and followed her out.

"I'll go talk to her."

Mercer was fighting back tears at this point, and Cordelia grabbed his shoulder again and gently rocked him back and forth. "Okay… that was… why don't you go Caeldori?"

"Grandmother." Caeldori said in a pleading tone.

"Please."

Caeldori sighed and stood up. "Mercer it's not that I hate you. I just… don't respect you. At all." Cordelia grabbed Caeldori by the ear and pulled on it. "OW! Grandma!"

"Listen here you little runt! You don't talk to your elders that way!"

"Soleil said much worse!"

"But she's not my granddaughter! I raised you better than this!" Cordelia let go of her ear. "Now you're entitled to your opinions, but rephrase them in a more respectful manner!"

Caeldori took a deep breath. "Fine. Mercer, it's not that I hate you. Rather… I just think you're a heartless, soulless, killing machine capable of killing your own family members… is all."

Mercer turned to Cordelia. "This isn't helping."

Cordelia shook her head. "Ugh. Caeldori… just go."

Caeldori followed Ophelia and Soleil outside and Mercer sat down at the table, burying his face in his hands. Cordelia quickly sat by him and tried to comfort him as Mercer took short and rapid breaths. "Hey, hey. Come on. It's alright."

"Oh gods." Mercer whimpered.

Cordelia grabbed one of his hands and held it. "I know they said some nasty things, but they're just angry. They'll feel better, and they still look up to you. I know they do. When, when I first got Severa to open up to me, she said very hurtful things to me. She didn't mean it though. She was just trying to push me away because she was afraid of letting me in, but she still loved me. The girls are angry and hurt but they still need you. They'll feel better. I promise."

Mercer took his face out of his other hand, revealing tears running down his cheeks. "Cordelia… you don't have to make me feel better."

Cordelia grabbed Mercer's hand and clasped it with both of hers. "Chrom, do you remember my husband?"

"Libra?"

"Yes. We had so much in common. We both joined the Shepherds around the same time, and for similar reasons. We were both the last survivors of our squads. Phila's squadron was killed in the war with Gangrel while protecting Emmeryn, and I only survived because I stayed behind. Libra was the only survivor of his group when they went to rescue Emmeryn. I loved him so much… but I didn't even see it for the longest time. I never thought about him like that before he proposed to me." Cordelia paused to collect herself. "But he wasn't who he appeared to be. He had a darkness within him. He didn't like what he did, and I wasn't sure that he was happy. I was a young bride. Phila took young women and turned them into warriors, but I didn't know how to be a wife. I didn't know how to help him. I watched as my husband slowly wallowed in depression." Cordelia gripped Mercer's hand very tightly. She slowly brought it to her lips and kissed it. "I'm not going to do that again. I'm not going to just stand by and watch as another man in my life is consumed by his inner demons. I'm going to help you. Maybe I can't make you stop hating yourself, but I'm not going to stop helping you. Maybe, just maybe, I can make you feel anything else about yourself." Mercer didn't respond. Cordelia stood up. "I'll make us some tea. Would you like that?"

"You don't have to do that for me."

"Maybe I want some." Cordelia started to make her way to her cabinet. "You're welcome to have some." Mercer watched as she began making it, and in the corner of the cabinet he noticed what looked like a wine bottle. It immediately became the focus of his attention, and he became so fixated on it that time became irrelevant to him. He didn't even notice when Cordelia eventually left the kitchen. He only cared that he was alone. He quickly got up and retrieved the bottle. It really was wine.

"Oh gods. I haven't had a drink in weeks, and I haven't had wine in years." Parts of Mercer told him that drinking now wasn't right, or that Cordelia might have been saving that, but they were drowned out by Mercer's suppressed but ever present alcoholic. "Cordelia won't mind if I take it. I just, I need a drink." Mercer placed the bottle on the table and sliced off the top with his Falchion. He then immediately began chugging right from the bottle.

* * *

Cordelia stepped out to the porch. She took in the cool night air and listened for the three girls. Though they went silent as soon as she walked by, Cordelia could still hear their breathing, and from it she knew where they were and who was where. She turned to the three girls. Caeldori stood up. "Grandmother… about what happened-"

"It's fine. You were just doing what I asked you to. You're all entitled to your feelings."

Cordelia sat beside the girls. Ophelia sighed and looked out into the forest by the house. "I'm sorry Cordelia, but we just don't trust him anymore."

"He's still a good man."

Soleil shook her head. "Have you ever considered that your feelings for him are blinding you to what he's really like?"

Cordelia thought about Soleil's words for some time before answering. "You will never know how badly I once wanted that man. There was a time where I felt like he was all that mattered to me. My feelings for him just consumed me and I… it was hard to focus on anything else sometimes. But I buried those feelings anyways because they weren't appropriate. I didn't spend my adult life training to be a Pegasus Knight so that I could fawn over men. I did it so that I could protect my country. The Pegasus Knights have protected this country for thousands of years. The Hero King himself had Pegasus Knights fighting by his side. I was proud to follow in that legacy. I served because it was my job. I followed Chrom because I believed in his cause." Cordelia turned to Soleil. "So no. I'm not blinded by my feelings for him. I refused to let those feelings affect me in any way, and I still thought he was a good man. Just give him a chance. It's not wrong to react like this but… look at me. He blinded me, but I don't hate him. I don't. I know that it wasn't his fault. I know that there's still a hero in him. He can help you. He can still help the world. Just give him a chance."

The three girls looked to each other, but they didn't say anything. For several minutes the four just sat in silence, until Cordelia looked towards the forest. "Wait… I heard something."

Caeldori looked at her. "You're always hearing things."

"No I heard something. Someone is out there. I know it."

"Well, well, well… I guess someone does live out here." The four women looked up in horror as Courtney stepped out of the tree line. "And a Pegasus Knight at that! There aren't many of you left."

Cordelia didn't know who Courtney was, but she could hear how panicked the three girls were becoming. "Girls who… who is this?"

Caeldori slowly drew her spear, and Soleil and Ophelia followed suit with their weapons. "He's with the Grimleal." She answered bitterly.

"What?! How could they find us?"

"That assassin we sent after Chrom may have abandoned his job, but he did tell us where you were."

Cordelia looked horrified. "No! No, he wouldn't!"

"Oh but he did, Cordelia."

Cordelia stepped forward. Caeldori stuck her arm out and tried to stop her, but Cordelia gently brushed her away. "How do you know me?"

"I know all of you. The Inquisitors maintain extensive records of the Shepherds. We know everything about you, but more than that we met once."

"We met?"

"Well… no, but I saw you." Courtney took off his mask, exposing his warped face. Cordelia was the only one who didn't grimace from the sight. "I saw you."

"W-when?"

"Thirty years ago, back when you were a young woman, and I was just a boy. I was a peasant, and I lived with my family in a small village in the border sands. Right on the border between Plegia and Ferox." Cordelia froze as she remembered what he was talking about. Courtney's badly burned lips curled into a smile as he saw Cordelia recall the location. "I remember seeing you Cordelia. I remember a Pegasus Knight with red hair, bright red hair, flying overhead. There was a battle going on. The Shepherds were fighting with the Grimleal. I was frightened by the fighting, but my parents urged me to get back inside. They said we'd be safe so long as we stayed in our village. The fighting wouldn't affect us there." Courtney looked down. "But it did come to us. Barbarians came to our village, and they ransacked us. They took my family for everything we had. When it was all over, I could see that the Shepherds were still nearby. You could have helped. You could have saved us, but you didn't."

Cordelia took a step back as the memories came back to her. Courtney was talking about a battle fought just after she joined the Shepherds. It was the battle where the Shepherds first met Nowi and Gregor, and when they first met the Grimleal. There had been villages nearby. "You… you were a villager!"

"Yes. Because you didn't save us, my family lost everything. My parents had to send me to an orphanage. I was furious with them. I hated them for it. I ran away and travelled kilometers to make it back to my village. I refused to let my family abandon me. When I got back though, the other villagers told me that my parents had died. They'd starved. We were so poor after those barbarians pillaged us that my parents couldn't even put food on the table. They gave everything they had to me so I didn't know how bad things were, and they sent me away to save my life. They had so little left for themselves that they didn't last a week after I was gone. They were starving even as they sent me away." Courtney looked back to Cordelia, his deformed face further warped by rage. "And it's all your fault. The Shepherds could have stopped those barbarians, but you didn't get to me. I lost everything because of you."

Cordelia was moved by Courtney's words, but Caeldori was uncaring. "So you blame them for what happened? Now you just want revenge? You realize that those barbarians were with the Grimleal right? You're with the people that ruined your life!"

Courtney laughed and put his mask back on. "You're right. I am with the people that ruined me. See… I don't care about revenge. That's a childish motivation. No, no that's not what this is about. It's just that I learned something then. Feudalism is about trusting the people above you. The peasants work for the lords, and the nobles, and the knights, and in return they're supposed to protect us. When my family needed help, when we were losing everything, where were they?! Chrom formed the Shepherds to protect the people of the land, but where was he when my family needed him?! I learned that you can't depend on other people for your protection. You are the only person you can depend on. You are the only person who can guarantee your family's safety. I learned that you have to be able to take care of yourself. That's why I'm with the Grimleal. I vowed that I would never become a victim again. I vowed that I would be on the winning side one day. Now?" Courtney stuck his arms into the air, and over a dozen Reavers materialized from the forest. The four women froze and looked around warily as the Reavers surrounded them. "Now I survive! You're going to be wiped from the face of the world!"

Cordelia showed no fear. She just turned to the three girls and nodded. "Stay together. We'll be fine."

Courtney turned to his own forces. "Reavers! No bows! No pistols! No projectiles! Melee weapons only. I want this to be _dirty_." Courtney reveled in the fear and anxiety of the four for several seconds before finally signaling to attack. The Reavers charged at the four women without fear or hesitation, but they were ready. Within seconds they had cut down almost half of the Reavers, but the remainder didn't react. They continued to press forward without any care for self-preservation. Courtney himself took the violence in for awhile before finally moving. "I love my job!" He readied his gauntlets and waded into the fray. Blindness be damned, Cordelia fought as fiercely as her younger counterparts and managed to hold her own against the Reavers. She wasn't prepared for Courtney's sudden offensive however. Courtney singled her out and drove her back with rapid strikes before managing a solid hit on her face. Cordelia fell to her knees, and Courtney stood over her. "You ignored me then! Can you ignore me now?!" Courtney started pummeling her into the ground, smiling sadistically under his mask. "For the record, it's okay for me to hit you. I'm handicapped too."

Meanwhile Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori worked together to fight off the Reavers. The three were perfectly coordinated, moving with each other to provide a constant offense while ensuring that they had no holes in their defense. Within two minutes they had cut down every Reaver, and they turned to the man that had once been their warden. Courtney glanced up from his assault in time for Caeldori and Soleil to both stab him the chest. Courtney managed to drive them back by furiously swinging his gauntlets, and his armor saved him from serious injury, but he was still knocked to his back. He quickly realized that the Reavers were gone, and the three girls moved to surround him. "Beta Squad! Put that taxpayer money to work and GET ME!" A dozen Reavers Courtney had been holding in reserve emerged from the trees, and Courtney scurried away as Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori moved to protect Cordelia. Courtney ran to a carriage he had quietly parked nearby and banged on the cabin. "Kryczek! Deploy E-13 now!"

"Not unless it's absolutely necessary!" Kryczek shouted back. Courtney banged on the cabin even harder.

"Deploy her right gods-damned now! I'm almost out of Reavers!"

Meanwhile, Mercer finally forced himself out of his wine induced trance and stumbled outside to see what the commotion was about. He froze in panic as he saw Cordelia on the ground, and the three girls furiously defending themselves from Grimleal soldiers. When he glanced up, his fear was replaced with fury. Mercer and Courtney's eyes locked from across the front yard, and Mercer immediately sprinted back inside for his Falchion. As soon as he had it in his hands, he flung himself outside. With a roar that made Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori stop in their tracks for a second, Mercer cut down two Reavers before continuing to hurtle himself at Courtney. Courtney couldn't help but be startled, but his uneasiness was supplanted by excitement as he realized how perfect the situation was. "OH YE-HEH-ESS! It's like a storybook! Kryczek! Let E-13 out of her shackles!" Courtney got ready to sprint away at a moment's notice, but he didn't actually move until Mercer was almost on top of him. He darted behind the carriage an instant before Mercer could hit him with the Falchion, and then jumped up and tore off a partially undone lock keeping the carriage's back doors shut. "Showtime, girl!" He yelled without stopping.

Mercer tried to follow him, but as soon as he passed the carriage doors they flung open as if some burst of wind had forced them outwards. Mercer turned to see what happened just in time for a figure to tackle him to the ground, and he brought the Falchion up to defend himself a second before a sword was brought down on his head. Mercer forced the figure off of him and scrambled to his feet. He readied his sword and glanced up to see a face he hadn't seen in a long time. It was a face that had haunted his dreams, his visions, his very soul, for thirty years, but he hadn't seen the woman it belonged to since _it_ happened. Time seemed to fall away, and Mercer wasn't sure that the moment would ever end. Thirty years worth of pain, guilt, and self-loathing came crashing down around him as his weary mind struggled to comprehend the face staring back at him, a face that symbolized all of his failures.

"Lucina." Mercer whispered to himself. "H-how? How is this-"

Mercer was utterly paralyzed by the emotions coming down on him as his tired eyes fell on the microcosm of his many failures, so E-13 made the first move. Mercer barely recovered in time to prevent her from decapitating him, and E-13 pressed her offensive. E-13 was identical to the Lucina that Mercer had once known, but she was far more angry. E-13's face contorted in ways Mercer didn't even know Lucina's face could as she fought. She had all the violence Lucina was capable of, but none of the empathy, restraint, and heroism to ground it. Her bladework was highly skilled, but she otherwise fought like a feral beast. Her voice was undeniably that of Mercer's daughter, but it was gripped by a hatred Mercer didn't think Lucina could ever possess. When Lucina had been alive, Mercer worried for her future. He wondered if she would ever live a normal life. Would she someday have a husband? Children? A career that wouldn't get her killed? Could she live a normal life one day, or was violence all she ever knew? Would a lifetime of fighting prevent her from settling down? The Lucina in front of Mercer now seemed like something out of Mercer's nightmares. She was the epitome of everything Mercer feared Lucina could become. She was violence with no cause. Rage with no justification. Fury with no provocation. If Lucina were stripped of all her conscious beliefs, was this who she would be? More weapon than soldier? Mercer's family was defined by violence. Mercer himself, his father, the First Exalt, the Hero King, Anri, all made their mark on history through death. Was this the logical conclusion of Mercer's genealogy? When he fathered Lucina, did he taint her very soul? Did he doom her to the endless warfare that had always defined his ancestors?

Mercer struggled to ward off E-13's blows, but he eventually managed a glancing hit on her shoulder. E-13 briefly stepped backwards, but the pain didn't faze her. She pounded on her own wound with her fist for seemingly no other reason than to intimidate Mercer. He couldn't say it wasn't working. E-13 came at him again. She seemed to move twice as quickly as before, and Mercer cold barely keep track of her. For all her speed however, her blows still had incredible power and weight behind them. Mercer knew he couldn't last much longer, so he gambled everything on his superior strength. Lucina wasn't a particularly large woman. She couldn't have been stronger than him. Mercer launched a feint to move E-13's sword out of the way before tackling her to the ground. Though Mercer managed to force her on her back, she was far stronger than she had any right to be. She almost managed to throw him off, and Mercer had to press the Falchion to her neck to incapacitate her. Mercer pushed the flat part of the blade against E-13's neck so that it didn't cut her, and threw all of his weight onto it. E-13 furiously struggled to free herself, but Mercer held her.

"What are you?! WHAT ARE YOU?!" E-13's only response was yet another yell. "I don't want to hurt you! I won't hurt you!"

"Get up, girl! Get up!" Mercer looked up to see Courtney yelling at E-13. E-13 herself rolled her head to the side and noticed the Reaver corpses scattered around the front yard. The sight of her slain comrades sent her into a bestial rage. She turned back to Mercer, her eyes choked by hatred, and struggled to free herself. Mercer could barely hold her. "That's right, girl! They did that!" Courtney yelled to her. "They did that! They killed your pals! Are you going to let them get away with it? Get up! Make them pay for it! Get up, girl! Get up!" E-13 finally forced Mercer off her and quickly got on her feet. Before Mercer could recover himself, E-13 retrieved her sword and almost bisected him, cutting him so deeply that his intestines came tumbling out. Mercer gave something between a shriek and a gurgle and fell to his side in agony. E-13 charged at him, but Courtney got in front of her. "Wait! One second. I want to talk to him first."

E-13 didn't seem to calm down whatsoever, but she did as she was told. She took a step back as Courtney stepped over Mercer. "Beautiful isn't she? I've never see such a warrior. Who'd a thunk she could have come from you?" Mercer was in too much pain to look up. He desperately held his wound and tried to keep his insides in. Courtney smiled under his mask. "That's right. She's yours. The one you actually fathered. When the Shepherds fell, the Grimleal took the infant children. Your daughter is now Gangrel's greatest weapon." Courtney leaned down. "You know what the best part is? When she last saw you, she was still sucking on her momma's teat. She was too young to even remember you." Courtney walked away laughing as Mercer screamed in anguish. "Alright, girl. Complete your mission."

Courtney put some distance between himself and the two as E-13 prepared to finish Mercer. Mercer couldn't look his daughter in the eye. He barely had the strength to turn his head, but he also couldn't bare the sight of her. He only ever wanted a better future for the younger Lucina, but because of him she was turned into a collaborator for the very death god he had tried so hard to stop. In a way though, perhaps this was penance. Mercer's own daughter had once fallen on his blade. Perhaps it was poetic justice to die by his other daughter's hand.

Mercer closed his eyes and accepted his fate, but Soleil tackled E-13 before she could bring her sword down. "Get away from him you harpy!" Soleil forced E-13 backwards and managed to disarm her before she could recover, but E-13 wasn't afraid to charge Soleil with her fists. She struck Soleil in the neck and wrestled her to the ground. Soleil was spared further harm only after Caeldori appeared from behind and stabbed E-13 through the stomach with her spear. The pain didn't stop her, and in fact it seemed to fuel her. She threw her head backwards, her long blue hair getting in Caeldori's eyes and the back of her head slamming into her nose, and forced herself off of the spear. She quickly retrieved her sword and engaged Caeldori in a bitter fight.

Ophelia, Soleil, Mercer, and even Courtney were taken back by Caeldori's skill. Ophelia and Soleil always knew that Caeldori was a step above them, but they'd never seen her in action like this before. She fought with both ferocity and grace, and her every move was efficiently planned. She never expended more energy than necessary and her strikes always flawlessly flowed into another move. Her every attack was part of a larger strategy, and anything E-13 did was quickly countered. She was always planning multiple moves into the future. For all the violence and chaos of battle, it was analyzed like a game in her mind.

Caeldori just didn't have E-13's strength or speed though, and she certainly didn't have her viciousness. Caeldori was holding her own, but she was also being steadily driven away from her allies. Ophelia readied her personal tome and prepared to strike, but she couldn't get a clear shot. She cautiously followed Caeldori and E-13 as they fought. "Caeldori! Come back to us! I can't hit her like this!"

"I have her!"

"Let us help you!"

"NO! I can do this!"

Meanwhile, Kryczek slowly exited the carriage and crept towards Courtney, careful to avoid Ophelia. He shook his head in frustration when he saw E-13 and Caeldori fighting, and when he realized Courtney was doing nothing to stop it. "No, no, no!" He said to himself. "This is too much fighting! She shouldn't be doing this much fighting!"

Ophelia continued to follow E-13 as she pressed Caeldori backwards. Caeldori fought as hard as she could, but E-13 just didn't seem to tire. Caeldori eventually made a mistake, one mistake, and E-13 was able to slash her across the left shoulder. As Caeldori staggered backwards, E-13 brought her sword through her right wrist. Caeldori's spear fell to the ground. Her hand was still clutching it.

Caeldori fell to her knees and grasped her arm while shrieking at the top of her lungs. E-13 didn't react. Though Caeldori was defenseless, E-13 didn't attack her any further. She simply stood and stared, seemingly reveling in her agony. Caeldori tried to rise to her feet, but she stumbled and fell over. All she could manage to do was hold out her uninjured arm and desperately whimper for mercy. E-13 continued to loom over her, intently fixated on Caeldori's pain. In the distance, Kryczek noticed Soleil furiously charging at E-13. He ran over to her and called out for her to turn around, but E-13's obsession with what she'd done to Caeldori couldn't be broken. She continued to stand over her and ignored Soleil's roaring until she was right on top of her.

Once again Soleil tackled E-13 to the ground, but E-13 easily overpowered her and shoved Soleil backwards. Soleil and E-13 exchanged blows with each other, and Soleil managed to disarm her of the Falchion yet again. E-13 responded by roaring in frustration before grabbing Soleil's sword arm and striking her elbow with her other arm, bending it out of place. Soleil yelled in pain and dropped her sword. She took a desperate swing with her other arm, but E-13 caught it and head butted Soleil. Soleil stumbled back, and E-13 landed a solid kick to her knee, dislocating it. Soleil fell over in crippling pain, but this time E-13 didn't just stand there. She climbed on top of Soleil and started savagely striking her in the face. She ignored her sword, and she didn't attack any other part of Soleil. She just struck her in the head over and over, accentuating every swing with a shriek. Kryczek watched in frustration as E-13 viciously but pointlessly attacked Soleil with her fists. He ran his hands through his short, gray hair and ran towards E-13.

"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" E-13 finally stopped striking Soleil and looked up at Kryczek. "Stop it! Put her down! PUT HER DOWN!" E-13 continued to stare at her handler, but she didn't move. Kryczek started stomping his feet. "GODS-DAMNIT, PUT HER DOWN RIGHT NOW! PUT THE DYKE DOWN! PUT HER DOWN!" E-13 finally let go of Soleil. "Soleil is not a priority target! Chrom and Ophelia are priority targets! Kill them so we can go home! Get up and go kill them!" E-13 stood up and started walking towards Mercer, leaving Soleil, Caeldori, and her sword behind. Kryczek chased after her. "No! Don't use your fists! That takes too long! Use the sword! Get back here! GET BACK HERE AND USE THE SWORD! Gangrel will kill you if you leave that sword here! Go back and get the sword! NOW! Go back and get the sword! Use that!" E-13 slowly went back and retrieved her sword. She turned to Kryczek and glared at him, expecting him to further disagree with her actions. Kryczek pointed towards Mercer, who was still too injured to move. "What are you waiting for?! Go kill him! Kill him so we can go home! Kill him! Kill the priority targets! Chrom and Ophelia! Kill them! Do it now!" E-13 finally started moving towards Mercer, and Kryczek shook his head. "Gods! It's like talking to a child!" Kryczek turned back towards the carriage but froze when he saw Ophelia standing behind him, her face twisted with anger. Kryczek took a few steps back, quickly glancing around to find Courtney. He turned to Ophelia only after he couldn't find him. "W-wait! I'm unarmed! Be reasonable!"

Ophelia mercilessly hit Kryczek with a blast from her Missiletainn tome. Kryczek had no protection whatsoever. Ice materialized on much of his body, and the force of the attack sent him flying backwards into the forest. E-13 turned in time to see everything, and at the sight of her handler being injured, E-13 flew into a berserk state of rage that made her previous behavior seem tame. She unleashed a primal roar of hatred that shook everyone present to their bones before sprinting at Ophelia. Ophelia slowly and warily looked up to see her first cousin once removed throwing herself at her, her holy blade, a weapon once used by the hero of time herself, only a few seconds away from being driven into her skull. A part of Ophelia was too scared to do anything but stand there, but she steeled herself. She remembered everything Tiki, Cordelia, and Mercer had told her. She would not give up here. No matter what happened to her, she would not let her friends die. She forced herself to stand up straight and readied another attack.

E-13 didn't seem to have Courtney's resistance, but she was able to resist being blown backwards by Ophelia's attacks. Even as ice formed on her and as her skin turned a sickly dark color, E-13 pressed forward. Ophelia attacked again and again, but each attack only bought her a second of time. Eventually E-13's inexorable march took her to her destination, and she roared as she tried to bring her sword through Ophelia. Ophelia closed her eyes and roared right back.

Ophelia opened her eyes to find E-13 just standing there. At first it didn't look like she was moving, but she was putting as much force as she could into her sword. It was her weapon that wasn't moving. It had stopped right in front of Ophelia, and no matter how much E-13 struggled it refused to budge. Ophelia was so consumed by rage and fear that she forgot where her hands were until she saw them extended outwards. When she moved them towards her chest, E-13's sword was wrenched out of her hands. With a flick of her wrists, Ophelia sent it flying away. "Gods! Telekinesis! I'm… I'm doing it!" E-13 tried to strike Ophelia, but she raised her right arm and E-13's fist froze. She screamed and struggled against Ophelia, but Ophelia didn't let her go. Ophelia begun to understand how to use telekinesis. Soleil had been right. It wasn't concentration so much as excitement that fueled it. With her friends injured and dying all around her, it wasn't hard for Ophelia to focus on her rage. With a shout that drowned out E-13's own feral howls, Ophelia lifted her off the ground by her wrist. Everyone present, Courtney included, looked on in awe as Ophelia lifted E-13 over her head and flung her into the forest. E-13 disappeared into the trees, her screams becoming quieter until they were no longer audible. Ophelia smiled in triumph for only a second before she started to spasm and convulse, and she fell to the ground unmoving.

Soleil slowly limped over to Ophelia and inspected her friend. "Ophelia?" She whimpered. "Ophelia, please get up! Tell me you're okay? Ophelia!" Ophelia was sweating profusely and twitching slightly, but she wasn't conscious anymore. Soleil gently rocked her back and forth until Courtney brought his armored gauntlet down on her head.

"What the hell?! What the friggin hell did your friend just do to my new weapon?! What a load of bull!" Courtney started savagely beating on Soleil. "You forgot about me, dipwad! Let me tell you something. There ain't no magic to save you this time!" Courtney struck Soleil in the face two more times with his armored gauntlet, almost shattering her nose, but a bullet tore through the back of Courtney's head before he could attack any further. Courtney fell over as blood spurted out of the wound, and Soleil rolled over to get a look at her savior. It was the same man that had tried to kill Mercer a few days earlier. He ran up to Soleil and knelt beside her as her vision blurred.

"It's going to be okay. I'm not here to fight! I'm not here to fight. I'm going to help you."

"Oh… I… I can't… get away…"

"Hey, stay with me! Stay with me, Shrill! Hey! Cordelia! Over here! Help me with this!"


	14. The Arch Surg

Cordelia walked out of a makeshift tent. Her hands were soaked with blood, and she held them like she was afraid of them. Gaius quickly retrieved a cloth and helped her wipe her hands clean. "Is… is he going to be okay?"

"What do you care?" Cordelia responded bitterly.

"I'm sorry. I know it's my fault that this happened, but that's why I'm here. I don't forgive him, Cordelia, but I couldn't let the Grimleal hurt you. I'm sorry about what happened. I am."

"I'm surprised you can still feel sorry for anyone."

"I know I've changed, but I won't let innocents get hurt. How are the girls?"

"Stable. I stopped the bleeding on Caeldori, and I set Soleil's bones. I don't know what's wrong with Ophelia. She just passed out, but she seems to be physically uninjured." Cordelia sat down on the ground. "We're in bad shape though. We need to find a settlement. We need to be in a real city. Caeldori and Mercer need real medical attention."

"Where could we go?"

"What about Southtown? It shouldn't be far away."

"We can't. Something happened to that town a few weeks back. Nobody seems to know what, but there isn't anything there anymore."

"Where can we go then?"

Gaius leaned his head back into his arms and looked around. He paused as he noticed several figures in the sky flying towards them. "Umm, Cordelia. We have company."

"What?!"

"Wyvern riders."

"Who could that possibly be?"

"I was hoping you would say they were friendly, but I guess things are never that easy." Gaius readied his arquebus as the wyvern riders got closer. Several of them remained in the sky and circled overhead as three descended to the surface. Three armed men dismounted and cautiously approached the two. The man in lead was middle aged and had short and spiky hair. It was graying, but otherwise his hair was a reddish brown. The man had brown eyes, and he wore gold plate armor. He raised his arms into the air as Gaius pointed his weapon at him. The two soldiers behind him kept their weapons ready.

"Hey, hey! Put that thing down. We just want to talk."

"Is that why you're armed?" Gaius responded. The man just shrugged.

"We need to be. You never know when Grimleal will show up."

"You're fighting against the Grimleal?"

"You've never heard of the Arch Surg?"

Cordelia looked puzzled, but Gaius thought about it. "I think so. That's some kind of insurgency fighting against the Grimleal right? I've been hired to assass-err… learn about them before."

"Well you're on our land. What is all this?"

Gaius looked around in exasperation. "You think we're some army? We only have wounded in our tents! We're trying to stabilize them while we look for real medical help!"

"We'll see about that." The man turned to the other two soldiers and nodded. The soldiers marched into the tents. Gaius raised his arquebus, but the man quickly drew his axe and disarmed him. "You stay right there!"

"The hell?" Gaius activated his pistol sleeve and tried to point his holdout pistol at the man, but he grabbed Gaius' arm and moved it out of the way before bringing his axe to Gaius' neck.

"Firearms?! Those are common amongst members of the Grimleal. Among everyone else? Not so much. What are you hiding?"

Cordelia walked up to the man. "What's going on here?!"

The man turned to yell at Cordelia, but he froze and stared at her. "Wait… I know you. I know you!"

"What?"

"You! You were a Pegasus Knight! You were with the Shepherds!"

"H-how do you know that?!"

"Because I was there! I remember that day. I will never forget that day. I was a Plegian officer with orders to cut off Ylissean forces at breakneck pass. It was part of Gangrel's plan to capture Emmeryn. She was Exalt at the time."

Cordelia and Gaius both stood in stunned silence. "You were the Plegian officer in charge! You were the wyvern rider!"

The man nodded. "Yes. My name is Vasto. That was the first time I ever commanded forces on my own. I remember you Cordelia. I remember you coming in to warn the Shepherds about reinforcements from the rear."

"How?! What?! We killed you?!"

"I was wounded, but I survived. By the time I made it back to Plegia, most Plegian soldiers had defected after hearing about Emmeryn's sacrifice. I didn't want to fight in the war anymore, so I went to live with my mother. I tried settling down, but then the Grimleal took over the world. I realized that this is what the Shepherds were trying to stop all along, and I realized that Plegia had been manipulated into helping. By fighting for Gangrel, I had indirectly contributed to Grima's rise. I swore to make up for that, so I've been fighting the Grimleal ever since. Now I'm with the Arch Surg."

Cordelia frowned. "What exactly is that?"

"The Arch Surg is a name the Grimleal gave us. We call ourselves the Archanean Liberation Front. We chose the name to remind people of a time when humanity could defeat threats and be in control of its own fate. We also chose that name to remind people that we are all united against the Grimleal. It doesn't matter if you're from Ylisse, Plegia, or Ferox. We're all fighting to free humanity from their oppression."

"Why are you telling us all this, Vasto?"

"I know we were enemies once, but that doesn't matter now. We came down here because we thought you could be with the Grimleal, or that you could be brigands. We believe in the rule of law. It's not enough to fight against the Grimleal. You also need to rebuild human civilization. We have settlements, and we protect people from bandits and brigands."

The two soldiers that had been with Vasto returned from the tents. "They're telling the truth, sir." One of them said. "They have wounded, and two of them are in critical condition."

Vasto nodded and turned to Cordelia and Gaius. "You two obviously aren't with the Grimleal. You're Shepherds! Our leader will be ecstatic to see you!"

"What makes you think we're going anywhere with you?!" Cordelia snapped.

"We're not enemies anymore. We have food and supplies, and we can help your wounded at our base."

"So we should just trust you?"

"What choice do you have? You need help, and we can provide that for you."

"And you'll just give that to us?"

"You're the Shepherds! You're legendary! You almost saved the world from the Fell Dragon. A lot of people at our base would be very happy to see you. Medical supplies are nothing in exchange for that."

Cordelia turned to Gaius. He habitually shrugged before remembering that Cordelia couldn't see him. "We don't have much of a choice. Chrom and Caeldori need real medical attention."

Cordelia sighed. "Can you provide supplies for our wyvern and our Pegasus when we get there?"

Vasto glanced back to a Pegasus Cordelia had behind one of the tents. "Yeesh, that thing looks ancient. Is that the same Pegasus you had thirty years ago?"

"Yes. Can you help her or not. She's not used to flying this much anymore."

"Sure. Welcome to the Arch Surg. We're not exactly like the Shepherds, but we do believe in justice, and justice should come to few men's detriment but all men's fear. We will take the fight to the Grimleal, and you two will inspire our forces! Come with me. Our base isn't far from here."

* * *

Just as when he had fallen unconscious after his fight with Courtney at the Rockpile, Mercer found himself in a strange void of a continuance. Everything around him was black, and once more he couldn't see or feel his body, yet he felt like he was physically present somewhere. It didn't feel like a dream or an out of body experience. Mercer felt like he was in a very real location. In the distance Mercer could hear a strange chanting like what he had heard before, but it was much closer. He wandered towards the direction of it until it became very audible, and Mercer quickly realized that one woman's voice stood out from the others. He turned to find a familiar woman behind him. The woman hadn't been there when Mercer came from that direction, though perhaps direction was meaningless in this void. The woman had long navy blue hair, and she stood with her back facing Mercer, talking to nothing.

"Here in my empire, that you do not remember. Your hands do not toil. Your eyes do not see. Your ears do not listen."

"What are you saying?" Mercer called out. The woman slowly turned around. It was Lucina, and once more Mercer was made to come face to face with a woman that had once trusted him so much, only to be hurt by him. This Lucina wasn't twisted and warped by feral rage as E-13 had been. Painful as the sight was for Mercer, he was a little relieved to see her normal again. Mercer slowly walked towards her. Lucina didn't react. She continued to stand and stare blankly. "Lucina? How is this… what… what are you saying? Where are we?"

"Chaos reigns." Mercer turned around to see Maribelle, a noblewoman and a member of the Shepherds, standing behind him. She had the same blank expression as Lucina, and she spoke in a flat tone. "And your hands cannot toil. And your eyes cannot see. And your ears cannot listen."

"W-what?! What are you saying? What's happening?!"

Mercer looked away to find Frederick, a man that had once always been by his side. "But I will return, and my crusade will bring order to the land."

Mercer backed away, but felt someone watching him. He turned around to find Walhart, the former emperor of the Valmese Empire. "And through war your hands will toil."

"What?!" Mercer furiously glanced around, and every time he did he found a new Shepherd staring at him. They all gave him the same blank expression. He looked over to find Stahl.

"And through war your eyes will see."

Mercer looked over to see Olivia. "And through war your ears will listen."

"S-stop it. Stop it! All of you! Stop it!"

None of the Shepherds ever moved, but there were now so many of them that Mercer was surrounded. "I shall return." Sumia said.

"And the world will toil." Gerome said.

"And the world will see." Vaike said.

"And the world will listen." Owain said.

"And that world will cease to be." Nowi said. Mercer closed his eyes for several seconds and ran his hands through his hair. When he looked up again, the Shepherds were all standing around one man. He was tall and heavily armored, but also old. He didn't look any younger than eighty. His face was almost consumed by a raggedy and unkempt stark white beard, and his skin sagged with deep seated wrinkles. The man brought his blue eyes down on Mercer and gave him a cold and unfeeling stare, yet a stare that burned with intensity.

"My world will remain."

"GAAH!" Mercer flung himself forward to find himself in a bed. He was wearing nothing but his smallclothes, and beside him was a middle aged woman with an expression that combined fear and embarrassment on her face. Mercer darted his eyes around to find any signs of what had just happened being real, but the room he was in seemed perfectly normal. It had just been a dream, though it felt so real. Mercer awkwardly turned to the woman, who had apparently been rubbing some kind of oil on his chest. He slowly glanced down at his abdomen and noticed the oil around the wound E-13 had inflicted on him. There was a noticeable scar running below his stomach, but it was a far less traumatizing sight than seeing his intestines spilling out. "Where… where am I?"

"Are you okay?" The woman asked in a soft but professional tone.

Mercer nodded. "Yeah." He lied back down on the bed and pulled the sheet over him. "I'm fine. I just… had a nightmare. Where am I?"

The woman gently but compulsorily pulled the sheet back down until Mercer's scar was visible again. She went back to tending to it. "You're in a hospital. You're safe now. Your allies brought you here."

"You mean the girls?"

"A blind red haired woman and an orange haired man with strange goggles brought you here. They had young women with then, but they were as incapacitated as you were."

"An orange haired man with strange goggles?!"

"Yes."

Mercer became very worried. "He was working with the blind woman?!"

"They seemed to get along."

Mercer was afraid of Gaius coming back, but if Cordelia trusted him then he must not have been there to hurt him or the girls. He sighed and relaxed. "Are the young women okay?"

"Yes. One had broken bones, but that's nothing serious. One just needed some rest. The third had lost her hand and was suffering from severe blood loss, but she should be fine with medical attention."

"Lost her hand?!"

The woman nodded and didn't say anything further. Mercer wanted to ask who she was, but the question seemed to be less and less relevant to him as the seconds went by. It wasn't because Mercer didn't care, or even because he felt that the woman was just a nurse and nothing more. Rather, Mercer felt that he already knew her somehow. Mercer watched as the woman tended to his wound, uncaring about any supposed awkwardness to touching a scantily dressed stranger so intimately. The woman had a professional demeanor, and Mercer felt that she had likely seen severe injuries before. Perhaps she had even seen war and death before. Mercer looked up and carefully studied the woman herself. Though her hair was graying, it was still mostly a light blonde color. Her eyes were a soft and subdued blue, to the point where they were almost slate colored. Her face was soft, but also determined. "This might seem strange of me to ask but, have we met before?"

The woman stopped tending to Mercer's wound and took a deep breath. "Yes, Chrom. We have met before. I also met your elder sister once. I was once a priestess, and I made a pilgrimage to Ylisstol to hear her speak. I believed in Naga and the Earth Mother, but that was before Walhart rose to power. Walhart wanted to unite humanity and free us from the tyranny of gods. He wanted a world where humans were in charge of their own fate. I served in his empire to make his vision a reality, and I fought against your Shepherds when you came to Valm."

Mercer's eyes widened as he realized who the woman was. "You! You were the Valmese commander at Fort Steiger!"

"Yes. I can't say I ever thought I'd see you again, Prince Chrom."

"I thought you were killed!"

"No. I was badly injured, but life did not leave me. I initially tried to regroup with Valmese forces and launch a counterattack, but some time had passed since I was wounded. Walhart's empire was gone, and we heard that Walhart himself had willingly joined with your Shepherds. It broke our hearts to know that our leader had given up, but we decided that his vision could live on within us. When the Grimleal took over the world, we resisted them in any way we could. We never did much. If we did then they would have killed us long ago. We have been fighting in any way we can though, and that's why I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"I know we were foes once, but that doesn't matter now. Valm, Ylisse, kingdoms, empires, none of that matters now. All that matters is that we're both human, and that we fight against the Grimleal."

"So you're with some kind of resistance group?"

"We call ourselves the Archanean Liberation Front, though the Grimleal often call us the Archanean Insurgency, or the Arch Surg."

"So where do I fit into this?"

Pheros went back to tending to Mercer's wound. "Don't feel so threatened. We're not holding you here against your will. We're just treating your wounds, and your allies agreed to take you here willingly."

"I want to see them." Mercer demanded in a soft but aggressive tone. Pheros nodded.

"Of course. One of your old allies is just outside, actually. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you awake." Pheros stood up and exited the tent, and Cordelia walked in shortly after. Cordelia slowly made her way towards the chair, carefully feeling for it and occasionally stumbling over small objects strewn around the floor. Mercer couldn't bear to just sit and watch, so he got up and helped Cordelia to a chair beside his bed. Cordelia smiled at him, but she also looked very worried.

"T-thank you, Chrom, but you shouldn't be up."

"I'm fine. Really."

"Are you sure? You were very badly injured."

"I'm fine, Cordelia. Thank you."

Cordelia nodded and placed her hand on Mercer's shoulder. She slowly ran it down his chest, but recoiled when she reached his pectoral. "Oh you're uh, you're not wearing much. Did you just wake up?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you don't need more rest?"

"I'd really like to talk, Cordelia. Where are we?"

"We didn't have many options after we escaped the Grimleal. We couldn't stay at the cabin because they could have attacked again, so we had to leave. I had to stop and help stabilize you and Caeldori, and that's when we encountered the Arch Surg."

"Are the girls okay?"

"Yes. Soleil had broken bones but she's recovered. I don't know what happened to Ophelia, but she's healthy now."

"And Caeldori?"

Cordelia was visibly pained. "Oh my baby. She… she erm…" Mercer took Cordelia's hand, and she trembled. "She… she lost her hand, Mercer."

"Gods!"

"She was almost passed out from blood loss when I last saw her. They've told me that she's made a full recovery, but they were still working on her prosthetic."

Mercer shook his head. His mind was still desperately trying to process everything that had happened to him in such a short period of time. The only thing he could bring himself to focus on was his immediate safety. "Cordelia… the woman here told me you came with Gaius. What's going on?"

"I was as worried as you are Mercer, but he's not our enemy right now. He saved us back at the homestead. The Grimleal forces would have overwhelmed us without him. He helped me get you and the girls here. He's not going to hurt us."

"He lead the Grimleal to us didn't he?"

"Yes but… but… he's sorry, Mercer. Really he's sorry. That's why he's helping. He wants to atone for what he did to us. Surely you can understand that?"

Mercer could understand wanting to help people to make up for past sins, but that didn't make him any less afraid of Gaius. Even then, he was actually calmed by Cordelia's seemingly genuine trust in him. Against his own judgement, Mercer found himself increasingly relaxed around Cordelia and anything she was familiar with. "Alright, but what about these people? Do you know who they are?"

"Yes. It was explained to me. They're called the Archanean Liberation Front. They're a resistance organization that fights against the Grimleal. Soleil said that Tiki mentioned them once, but Tiki didn't approve of their violence."

"Then why do we trust them?"

"We don't have many options right now. These people are helping us. You and Caeldori might have died without their help!"

"But they could be dangerous! Do you know who that woman that just walked out was?!"

"Yes. Pheros. She was the commander at Fort Steiger."

"You don't sound surprised."

"No. She's not the first old world foe I've seen here. After we escaped the Grimleal at the homestead, we set up camp in the wilderness. We were harassed by wyvern riders who claimed we were in their territory, but they became a lot more friendly after their leader recognized us. You'd never guess who it was."

"Someone we knew?"

"Remember the war between Emmeryn and Gangrel? Remember when Plegian forces ambushed us at breakneck pass? Their leader was a wyvern rider? His name was… is Vasto."

"He was the leader?!"

"Yes. He's with the Archanean Liberation Front now. So is Pheros. They may have been our enemies once, Chrom, but that was a long time ago. Now the people here just want to free humanity from the oppression of the Grimleal."

"Gods! Walhart, Gangrel, and Aversa turn up alive after we defeated them. Now minor generals are showing up? Did we kill anyone important back then?!"

Cordelia shrugged. She held Mercer's hand with both of her own and gently caressed it. "Look Mercer… without these people… you might not be here. We don't know them, but we don't have to be hostile to them. They are enemies of the Grimleal. That makes them our allies."

Mercer remembered Keith and the tyranny he brought to Veslil. "That's not necessarily true."

Cordelia didn't say anything else for several minutes. Mercer waited for her to speak, but she didn't. The two just held each other's hands and took in the quiet. Mercer found himself staring at Cordelia's features. With all the horrible things that had happened to him in just a few days, Mercer wasn't sure where he'd be without her support. Why did she care so much for him after everything he'd done to her? The emotion that had the most powerful effect on Mercer's mind whenever he looked at her was still guilt, but he also felt something else. He hadn't felt anything like it in thirty years, and it was hard for him to describe or understand it, but it was pleasant. He felt safe around her. He felt younger. He felt like he didn't hate himself anymore. The crippling self loathing that Mercer had long accepted as a form of penance returned whenever Cordelia left, but as long as she was nearby, Mercer felt a peace he hadn't known in decades. He still didn't feel like he deserved it, but there was no denying he wanted it. Mercer lost himself in looking at Cordelia, contemplating his role in her life, and didn't even realize several minutes had passed before she finally spoke up again. "Chrom?"

"Y-yes?"

"Why didn't you introduce yourself to me as Mercer?"

"What?"

"When I called you Chrom, you didn't correct me. Ophelia and Soleil told me you called yourself Mercer. They told me you snapped at them if they called you Chrom. Caeldori said you never told her to call you that though, and you never told me. Ophelia and Soleil insisted that you didn't want to be called by your name. So why didn't you correct me?"

Mercer hadn't even realized. He was so overwhelmed with emotions when Cordelia talked to him that he never thought about his name. "I… don't know."

"Why change your name at all? Why hide who you are?"

"I couldn't let the people at my village know who I was."

"But why refuse to let Ophelia and Soleil call you by your name?"

"Because… because Chrom died thirty years ago."

Cordelia looked hurt, and she slowly shook her head. "No! No. You're still here! You're still with us! I know you hate yourself but that doesn't mean you aren't still a good person. The girls, Ophelia especially, went on and on about you when they first brought you to the homestead. They believed you were the best hope for the world. You can still be what they see in you! You can be what I see in you."

Mercer sank his head into his pillow and withdrew his hand. "Cordelia, do you know what I did after it happened?"

"After what happened?"

"You know what I mean. After _it_ happened. After it all fell apart."

Cordelia was very nervous about where Mercer was going. "N-no. Of course not."

Mercer took a few deep breaths and thought about his story. "I blacked out after the fighting stopped, but only for a few minutes. When I woke up, everything was still there. The bodies were still there. The blood was still there. The Falchion, stained in the gore of the men and women who had once seen it as a symbol of hope, was still there. My daughter, her dead eyes frozen in that last listless stare, was still there. I just… I couldn't be there. I wanted to bury them but there were dozens of bodies, and I just couldn't be there anymore. I grabbed the Falchion and left. I didn't have any destination in mind. I just walked. I walked and walked. I don't remember how long it was. I remember the sun setting and coming up a few times, but I don't remember how long it was. I don't remember very much about that time really, except for one thing. The wild animals I came across… they were afraid of me."

Cordelia shivered and brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh, Chrom."

"Eventually I found a beehive. A huge one. I watched as the bees went about their lives. They were all busy working for the hive. No one bee cold survive on its own. They all work for the good of the hive. For the good of other bees. They only cared about helping each other. The Shepherds worked together. They cared for each other. They trusted me, and I betrayed them. Watching those bees, it filled me with rage. I… I attacked the beehive. Hundreds of bees, maybe thousands, came out and attacked me. They stung the crap out of me. Next thing I knew I was on the ground. I could barely breathe, and a furious pain burned my entire body, but I didn't die. Life clung to me like a sickness. I decided though… I decided that Chrom did die that day. I'm Mercer now." Mercer turned to Cordelia. She couldn't see his glare, but his voice told her everything she needed to know about how he was feeling. "Call me Mercer from now on, Cordelia. I mean it."

"B-but-"

"I mean it."

Cordelia hung her head, clearly regretting bringing it up. Mercer wasn't going to back down on this, but he couldn't take the silence anymore. "So uh… where are we? Where exactly are we?"

Cordelia's expression didn't improve. She grabbed Mercer's hand again and held it very tightly. "Mercer… oh gods. Do I have to call you that?"

"Please, Cordelia."

Cordelia sighed. "Alright. Mercer, the name of the settlement we're in is… it's called Nowi Falls."

"W-what? What?! Why is it called that?!"

"Come on. Get dressed." Cordelia tugged on Mercer's arm. "Maybe I should show you. You'll see it eventually anyways."

* * *

Soleil walked into a medical tent to see a man standing over Caeldori. Caeldori had her right arm outstretched, but it didn't end in a human hand. Caeldori now had a prosthetic at the end of her arm, and the man helped her hold it up and ran his fingers along the device. The hand resembled an armored gauntlet, but it was the size of a hand and was strapped directly to her arm. The man with Caeldori was carefully explaining its operation to her, and Caeldori's expression grew more pained with every word. The man didn't notice at all. If anything he was excited at the device.

"Any questions about how it works?" The man asked eagerly.

Caeldori was almost choking down tears, and she had to steady herself for her voice to come out steady. "How-how do I move the fingers?"

"Oh sweetie, you must not, you must not have been paying attention there, heh. You can't move the hand itself! It's not a human hand. That would be impossible. You move the fingers with your other hand." The man took Caeldori's left hand and placed it on the prosthetic. "Now if you lost both hands then you would be in trouble, but you still have your other hand. You use your left hand to manipulate the fingers." The man moved Caeldori's hand and made her move the fingers on the prosthetic. "The fingers can grip items tightly enough to hold them, so you can easily hold a weapon or a pen or a utensil with this hand. Just put the item in your hand with your other hand and mold the fingers around it. The hand should be able to hold it." The man flipped the prosthetic over and pointed towards several switches. "These switches make the fingers release. Each individual finger has a switch, and the one on the back of the hand releases all the fingers. That way you can easily let go of anything you're holding."

Caeldori stared intently at the hand. "Okay." She said very meekly. "Thank you."

The man smiled and left. He hummed as he left the tent, and Soleil initially caught his optimism. She walked up to Caeldori's bed with a particularly large smile on her face. "Well if it isn't 'Iron Hand Caeldori'! Good to see you feeling better." Caeldori broke down crying. She instinctively brought both of her hands to her face, and so ended up hitting herself with the metal hand. This made her cry even more. Soleil felt her heart sink into her gut. "Wait, no! I-I didn't mean to make fun of you! It was a joke! Don't cry!"

"GO AWAY SOLEIL!"

Soleil sat on the edge of the bed. "Hey, come on. I'm sorry. Really."

"I said go away!"

"I know we don't always get along, but I can't leave you like this! I'm sorry I… I should be more sensitive. I just… I just want to help."

"Soleil-" Caeldori said through tears. "-just leave me alone." Soleil handed Caeldori a single rose. Caeldori took it, but she was more confused than anything. "What the hell is this?"

"Flowers! You're a hospital patient after all."

"Is this a damn joke to you?!"

Soleil stopped smiling, and she gave Caeldori a solemn look. "Like I said, I know we don't always get along but… I can't leave you like this. Come on. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" Caeldori held up her prosthetic, the fingers still stuck in the positions the man had put them in. "I'm a freak!"

"That's… that's what this is about? You hate the way it looks?"

"My right hand is like some kind of a machine! Look at me! This isn't normal." Caeldori let her arm fall back down and sunk into the pillow. "People are going to look at me, and they'll just see some kind of freak."

Soleil was quiet for awhile, genuinely stunned by Caeldori's words. "You… you hate it because you think it's ugly? I can't believe that. Knowing you, I thought you hated it because it would slow you down in battle but… you hate it because you think it'll disturb people?"

"Soleil, you must think me a heartless woman to expect me to only care about warfare. I'm a soldier. Soldiers fight for a cause, but they also want a normal life to go home to. I want a husband someday, Soleil. Who would give me a second glance with this?"

"You think… oh Caeldori. That's not true at all. You're a good looking woman!"

"That doesn't mean anything coming from you, Soleil."

Soleil got up and sat on the other side of Caeldori's bed. She gently pulled the switch on the back of the hand, making the fingers release and extend straight out, and held it. The two women locked eyes, and Soleil gave Caeldori a genuinely heartfelt smile. "Hey, come on. This? This doesn't mean anything. You're a brilliant woman. You're strong and intelligent, and you are very beautiful. Really."

"I just don't have your confidence, Soleil."

"Well maybe I can teach you. You said you wanted to learn to talk to people like I can. Tell you what. How about the two of us go out and pick up guys sometime."

"W-what?!"

"I can be your wingman. That's the term Pegasus Knights use right? I'll show you that no one will care about this thing. If anything it'll give you something to talk about."

"I-I don't know."

"Come on! Saving yourself is overrated, and you don't seem like the cougar type. You won't be young forever."

"I just… I… I don't know." Caeldori took her hand away, but she also smiled back. "But if you're offering to spend time with me then… we can do that."

"I know we've had our differences, but it's killing me to see you like this. I… I want to… what I'm trying to say is that I'll always be here for you if you really need me. We don't always get along no, and maybe it'll always be that way, but I don't really want to fight you. I'll help you get over this." Soleil picked up the rose that Caeldori had dropped and placed it in her prosthetic hand. Caeldori nodded.

"Thank you, Soleil."

* * *

In the town square outside of the tent where he had recovered from his wounds, Mercer fell to his knees as his gaze fell on the city's namesake. When Mercer had first seen Nowi, he was amazed that he got to see a Manakete. Now he was seeing more than he ever wanted to. The city of Nowi Falls had been built around the building sized corpse of the eponymous manakete. The body was nothing more than skeletal remains, but it was still in the shape of Nowi's dragon form. "What… what the hell?!" Mercer said with a voice so shaky that it was barely audible. "What the hell? What the hell, what the hell, what the hell?!"

Cordelia placed her hand on his shoulder. "She didn't die with the others, Chr-I mean Mercer. That's what Vasto said. She survived, but the Grimleal have some way of hunting down manaketes. They followed her for years, and eventually she turned and fought. She… well you can see what happened."

Mercer shivered uncontrollably as tears rolled down his face. "So now her corpse is a damn landmark?!"

"Well she died in her dragon form so… yeah. The body was too large to be moved."

Mercer ran his fingers through his hair and rocked himself back and forth. "Gods! What is wrong with people?! That used to be a person! That was a person! I knew her! Now she's a damn landmark! They named the city after her body being here! What is wrong with people?!"

"The settlement was founded by scavengers after Nowi died. They stripped her corpse for raw materials. Her scales were used to make weapons and armor. Her organs were turned into herbal medicines. Her meat was a cheap food source. They abandoned this place after the corpse was stripped to the bone, and the Arch Surg took it over after they had long left. They didn't choose the name."

"This is so messed up, Cordelia. This is SO MESSED UP! Gods. She was always a little girl in my mind. Now she's a damn landmark!" Mercer sobbed into his hands as Cordelia hugged him. "This is so messed up." He muttered in a broken voice.

"I know… Mercer. I know. This is why we can't give up on ourselves. We have to be strong for the ones that didn't make it."

As Cordelia and Mercer sat in mutual misery, a crowd of Arch Surg soldiers gathered at the other end of the skeletal corpse to listen to a speaker. Cordelia and Mercer didn't notice until the speaker began to shout, and the crowd roared in response. The two made their way around the massive skeleton and joined the crowd as they cheered on the speaker. The man was very old, and his white beard went down to his chest. Mercer froze in shock at the sight of him. Cordelia could tell that something was wrong, but she couldn't break Mercer out of his trance.

"Brothers and sisters of the Archanean Liberation Front, raise your arms in celebration of our victory!" The man roared. The crowd raised weapons into the air and roared back. "Today we celebrate victory, the great victory of survival! The Grimleal thinks it has won! Our very survival proves otherwise! Our very existence is an act of rebellion against them! Until they manage to kill every one of us, they cannot claim victory!" The crowd roared in agreement. The man took in the crowd's fervor for awhile before continuing. "And even if we do fall, others will rise again. We are not just men and women fighting for freedom. We are an idea! They cannot kill our idea, but we can kill them! The tyranny of the Grimleal will soon falter like the corset of an elderly noblewoman at a feast, and we will show them the meaning of beard… I mean FEAR! We will show them the meaning of _fear_!"

The soldiers in the crowd roared in agreement. Cordelia slowly turned to Mercer and whispered in his ear. "Was that… was that Cervantes?!"

"Yes." Mercer shook his head. "Did we kill _anyone_ back then?!"

(Who is constantly rereading this chapter?)


	15. The Demon in a Bottle

Mercer knelt in front of the skeleton Nowi Falls was built around. Cordelia was by his side, gently rocking him back and forth. "It's alright… Mercer. It's okay."

"She was a person, Cordelia! I knew her as a little girl, and now her corpse is the landmark for a city! They named the city after the fact that she died here! You're telling me they picked her corpse apart like buzzards! Now people walk around her body every day! This is so messed up! What's wrong with people!"

"I know it's horrible. Come on. Things are fine now. Everything's fine. She's in a better place now. Naga is watching over her now." Cordelia hugged Mercer as he started to shiver. "Everything will be alright. Everything will be fine."

Mercer glanced up at the sound of a cart approaching him. He and Cordelia found a merchant taking what looked like pieces of armor out of her cart. The merchant was an eager young woman, and she moved like she couldn't wait to start peddling her wares to the two. "You two! I see that sword of yours, sir! I see that lance of yours, ma'am. You two don't look like Arch Surg. Let me guess? Mercenaries?"

Mercer frowned. "Well… no-"

"Yes." Cordelia interrupted. "We're mercenaries. That's why we're armed." Cordelia silently urged Mercer to go with it. The merchant smiled and finished pulling out the pieces of her armor. It was like nothing Mercer had ever seen in terms of what it was made of, but he could tell that it would assemble into a chest piece.

"I've got just the thing for you two! You're definitely well armed. Anyone could see that. However, you two look like you could use some armor! People argue about whether the best defense is a good offense, or other way around. I say, it's better to be well armed and armored lest you not live long enough to find out!"

"You're offering us armor!"

"Offering? Ha! If only right! No this will set you back a bit, but it's worth it. This is a once in a lifetime offer. This armor is like nothing you've ever seen before. This is dragonscale armor."

Mercer immediately tensed up as he could see where this was going. "What… what is that?"

"It's exactly what it sounds like. It's made from the scales of a dragon!"

"What?!"

"The dragon this city was built around in fact! This is the stuff the scavengers made a few years back. You can't get anything like it now. Supplies are limited, and I've got a deal for you. This stuff is indestructible! It'll stop any weapon. It'll protect you against magic. It can even stop those fancy bullets that some people use now! Interested?"

"This came from Nowi! This armor is made from her scales?!"

"Guaranteed! No forgeries here." Mercer drew his sword and aggressively advanced on the merchant. She didn't seem worried. "You want to try it out? Go ahead! Your sword won't make a dent."

"You little-" Cordelia quickly grabbed Mercer and wrestled him back as he tried to lash out at the merchant. "That dragon was a person! She was a person! Who are you to sell her! What's wrong with you! She was a person!"

"I don't… I don't see why you're so angry."

Cordelia forced Mercer backwards. "Don't worry about him. He's just not used to this city. We're sorry for the inconvenience. Really!" Cordelia pulled Mercer back until the merchant had left. "What's wrong with you?!"

"What the hell is wrong with these people?! They're selling pieces of her! This is so messed up!"

"Come on, Mercer. She wasn't the one that scavenged the corpse. She's just trying to make a living. She didn't mean anything."

"These people are horrible!" Cordelia hugged Mercer until his rage left him. It was replaced by misery, and Mercer cried into her shoulder. "Oh gods! I miss them. I miss them so much. How could people care so little about everything they did for the world?! How could people be like this?!"

"It's alright. It's alright." Cordelia let go of Mercer and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey… I know what'll cheer you up. Let's get a beer."

"Did you say… beer."

"Yeah."

"We can't afford that!"

"No, Mercer. This place is amazing! They have their own brewery, and they grow cereals that have gone extinct almost everywhere else. Beer here is ten times cheaper than it would be in any other city. I saw that you got into my wine at the homestead."

"I… I'm so sorry."

Cordelia laughed. "Don't be. I forgot I even had that thing. Who knows what else I had lying around that I forgot about. I guess if I never felt for it, then I'd never find it."

"I don't know."

"Come on. This place isn't so bad."

"How do you know about these places?"

"Vasto told me about them. He's actually not a bad guy. He talked a lot about his mother and her knitting, and he has some jokes. He had some degrading ones about Pegasus Knights… but he got better after I knocked some sense into him."

"You can't trust these people, Cordelia."

"Let's not worry about any of that right now. Let's just relax. You'll feel better."

Mercer briefly worried about drinking, but he hadn't had a beer in over ten years. The offer wasn't something he could pass up. "I guess. It couldn't hurt."

* * *

"Mercer, I think you should slow down." Cordelia looked warily at the numerous empty beer bottles beside Mercer. He continued to eagerly drink from the bottle he was holding.

"Gods, this stuff is _good_."

"I guess. That's your ninth bottle." Cordelia looked down to her own bottle, which was only about half empty. "You're scaring me."

"What's wrong?"

"I took you here to make you feel better. I didn't take you here so that you could lose control of yourself. Come on. Put that down. We have work to do."

"What work?!"

"We can't just stay here."

"Why not?!" Mercer slowly turned to Cordelia and glared at her. "I'm not part of your cause. Thank you for saving my life, but I'm not part of this fight against the Grimleal. Don't tell me you are."

"I can't exactly fight like the girls do, Mercer. I'm not a young woman anymore, and blindness does have its drawbacks, but I have helped the girls. I trained all three of them. I've sheltered them when they needed a place to stay. I am part of their fight."

"Well I don't care! I don't care about the Grimleal. I don't care about these rebels."

"You don't care that they turned your daughter into an attack dog?"

"How… how could you even see that?"

"You think I don't recognize her voice? You're not the only one of us that cared about her. She was an inspiration to everyone."

"Well now she's gone." Mercer responded bitterly.

"Don't tell me you're drinking like this to forget what happened."

"Of course I drink to forget what happened! If you came to my town back when I was still allowed there, you'd find me like this. All they had there was kumis. Who looked at a mare and said they wanted to drink whatever came out of that?! I drank anyways, because only then did I have some semblance of serenity. Now I actually like what I drink, and thirty years of agony just came back over a few weeks."

Cordelia stood up. "Stop this."

"To do what? I never wanted to be a part of this. I only agreed to help save Soleil and Caeldori when they were captured by the Grimleal. They're safe now, and the girls don't even want me anywhere near them now."

"They're just angry-"

"I butchered their parents, Cordelia! I killed Inigo and Owain. Severa may have escaped, but I probably tried my damndest to kill her. All in the ironic belief that I was protecting their younger selves. They hate me, Cordelia. They're never going to want to speak to me again."

"You can still help them."

"I'm nothing."

"That's a load of Pegasus dung! I'm not going to let you keep drinking like this. Libra was consumed by his depression, and I didn't know how to help him. Severa was clearly traumatized by some of the things she saw in the future, and I didn't know how to help her. I'm not going to just sit by and watch as you spiral into self destruction. Come on. Let's go."

"No."

"Put that down."

" _No_."

"Come on, Chrom."

" _Don't call me that_."

"Give me the bottle."

"Leave me alone!"

"Give-"

"THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN FIND PEACE!"

"This isn't right, Chrom! Put that down!"

Mercer calmed down, but he didn't put down his bottle. "I'm sorry, Cordelia. I'm sorry I didn't spend more time with you all those years ago. I'm sorry that I might have taken your service for granted. Thank you for everything you've done for me… but I don't want you to care for me like this. I can't, I can't help you."

"That's not true."

"I can't help you, and the girls don't want my help! I just… leave me alone. I'm only going to let you down. I can't be the man you care about so much."

"Come on." Cordelia gently took Mercer's right hand. "One step at a time. Let's go speak to Cervantes."

"Why would I want to talk to him?!"

"He's the leader of this settlement. We should speak with him."

"He's our enemy!"

"A long time ago. Things have changed. Let's go alright? We'll take things slowly. Come on."

"I don't want to."

"You'll be fine."

"No."

"Come on."

"No!"

"Come on!" Cordelia said more forcefully.

"Just leave me alone. Please."

"I'm not going to let you try and drink yourself to death. Come on."

"Leave me alone."

"Give me that."

"Stop!"

"Give me that!"

"Stop it!"

"You're scaring me!"

"PLEASE LEAVE!"

"I'm not going to give up on you! I can help you!"

"I-I don't want, I don't want your help! I don't want your suffering! I don't want the pain you're bringing back to me! I'm not that man anymore! Leave me alone!"

"Please."

"Stop it."

"Give it to me!"

" _Stop it_!"

Cordelia tried taking it from Mercer. "Give it to me!"

"Knock it off!"

"You can't do this! Give it to me!"

"I'm not-you can't-leave me alone!"

"Give it to me!"

"GET OFF OF ME!" Mercer briefly became consumed by fury and panic, and he wrenched his right arm free and struck Cordelia. She fell backwards into a barstool and onto the floor. Mercer immediately froze in shock as Cordelia struggled to find her footing. He was increasingly crippled by remorse as he watched his old ally fumble for the barstool and table. Every rational part of him wanted to come to her aid, to scream and beg for forgiveness, but he couldn't actually bring himself to do anything but stutter. When Cordelia finally got back on her feet, she didn't say anything. She just turned towards Mercer for a few seconds, her lip trembling and her breathing unsteady, and then walked out of the bar. Mercer glanced around to see everyone there staring at him, but they soon turned back to their drinks and conversations. Only the bartender was still glaring at him.

"What was that?!"

"I… I don't know-"

"If you do anything like that again, I'll give you a verbal citation. Three of those and you'll get a written citation."

"What… what does that do?"

"Oh who am I kidding. That warning never does anything. I'm assuming you want another beer? Wife beaters aren't usually what I'd call social drinkers."

"That's not… I can't… I would never… I… err… I can't-" Mercer molded himself into his stool and fought back tears. "Yeah. Just get me another one."

* * *

"Bring me another one!" Mercer pounded his fist on the table and drunkenly brought his head from side to side looking for the bartender. After several seconds went by without any service, Mercer grabbed his empty beer bottle and repeatedly banged it against the counter. "Another one!"

The now very weary bartender reluctantly approached Mercer and took the bottle away. "Haven't you had enough?" His tone was exasperated but also defeated, as if the man already knew the answer.

"Just GIVE ME *urrp*, ugh… oh. Just… just give me… I need another beer!" Mercer slammed a few gold coins on the table and pounded his fist on it again. "Give me another beer!"

The bartender shook his head and went to fetch another bottle. Mercer let his head fall to the bar table and moaned. He rubbed his forehead up and down the coarse and unforgiving wood while unintelligibly muttering to himself. He perked his head up after hearing something slam down on the wood, expecting his beer. Instead he found a levin sword buried in the table. He quickly looked up to see Courtney looking down on him, a smug expression visible even through the small openings in his mask. "Will this do? It's top shelf?"

"W-what the hell?"

Courtney laughed and brought his mask uncomfortably close to Mercer's face. "Look how pathetic you are. You're descended from great heroes. For thousands of years your family ruled this land, but it all came crashing down under you. Everything your ancestors had built was ruined because you were too weak to protect it, and now men like me are in charge. We do what we want. We take what we want! This is what you've done to the world! Monsters like me rule over humanity, and everything the heroes of legends did was all for nothing because of your failure!"

"Gaargh!" Mercer took a wild swing at Courtney, but he only succeeded at knocking himself over and falling to the floor. He slowly made his way to his feet, having to brace himself on the bar stool and the table to do so, and stumbled after Courtney. Courtney calmly walked out of the bar and paid Mercer no more mind as he furiously staggered after him, bumping into tables, chairs, and patrons as he did so. "Courtney! Get back here! Face me!" After several minutes Mercer finally navigated his way outside, only to stumble and fall on his face. When he looked up he found the familiar face of a young man smiling down on him. The man held out his hand. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know."

"Robin?" Mercer whimpered. Robin helped him to his feet, and his smile faded.

"Oh, Chrom. What happened to you?"

"How? What?"

"I didn't know anyone before you found me in that field. You became my family. You and the other Shepherds." Tears rolled down Robin's cheeks as he placed his hand on Mercer's shoulder. "I loved you. I thought the two of us could take on any problem. Why? Why did it have to end?"

Mercer broke down in tears himself. "I don't know! Gods I don't know! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Gods! I didn't want this to happen!"

Robin withdrew his hand and began to walk away. "I just don't see why it had to end." Mercer desperately tried to grab him as he walked away, but once again he lost balance and found himself on the ground.

"ROBIN! Come back! I'm sorry!" Mercer crawled forward, unable to bring himself to his feet again. He glanced up to see Lucina standing over him. She smiled warmly at him, but she didn't help him up. Instead she knelt down to eye level with him.

"Father."

"Lucina?! What is this?!"

Lucina placed both of her hands on Mercer's cheeks, and she breathed irregularly as tears went down her cheeks as well. Even then, she didn't lose her warm smile. "I'm so happy to see you again, father. I was always so happy to see you again. When I first came back, I didn't want to get in the way. I didn't dare to think of myself as part of your family. I didn't want to get in the way of my younger self's life. I just thought I would be your ally, but you accepted me with open arms. You loved me as your daughter without hesitation. You made me so happy. I could finally be with the man I had heard so much about in my timeline. Hearing stories of you, of what you did, was one of the few things that kept me going."

"Lucina…"

Lucina looked away and took a deep breath to calm herself. "But you weren't the man I thought you were. You hurt us. You hurt all of us. I only ever wanted to live up to your legacy. Why did you turn on me?" Lucina broke down crying and brought her forehead to Mercer's, almost nuzzling him. "Why?!"

"I didn't… please! You have to believe me! I didn't want this!"

Lucina stood up and gave one last sad smile. "I know it wasn't your fault. But you weren't… you just weren't the man I thought you were. You were too weak to save the world, and maybe I never had a chance. Maybe I never could have changed the future. If you couldn't stop it, then what could I have done. I just wish… I just wish we all could have been together."

"Lucina! I didn't… no! Come back! I'm sorry!" Lucina turned and walked away as Mercer sobbed into the street. "COME BACK!" Mercer dragged himself forward, and as he did a man approached him. When he glanced up, the man morphed into Maribelle.

"I didn't really know you, did I Chrom? I wanted to be close to you because you were the prince, and I wanted you to like me and I wanted to be close to the Ylissean government. We didn't really get to know each other though. I didn't really see the man you were. Maybe… maybe we just weren't right for each other."

Mercer finally forced himself to his feet and reached towards Maribelle. "Wait! Hold on!"

Maribelle shook her head and walked off. "I'm sorry, Chrom. I'm sorry I couldn't understand who you were. I'm sorry I couldn't prevent whatever got a hold of you from happening."

"Wait!"

Maribelle walked away, and as Mercer chased after her other passersby approached him. Each one morphed into a woman he had known. Sully walked up to him and looked at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. "Yeesh, Chrom. I've known you since we were kids. I couldn't help but always think of you as that boy I grew up with, but I guess I wasn't seeing the man you were becoming. I didn't realize what you were capable of."

"I would, I would never hurt you!"

Sully disappeared into mist and Sumia walked up to him. She looked very pained. "I guess… I guess you weren't such a dashing prince after all."

"But… I-"

Sumia also disappeared and Olivia came from the side. "I've spent my life worrying about the attention I get from men, and some of them have been very forceful. I thought I would be safe with you… but you were the most violent of all."

"I didn't-"

Olivia disappeared and a young Cordelia approached from the street. "You know, Phila talked about you. She told me to watch out for you and the Shepherds. She said you were playing soldiers. She said you had no discipline. No accountability. You went where you wanted to and killed who you wanted to. The only thing that kept you in check was your personal morality. Privately I always supported you. I believed in your cause. Now though… I see my feelings blinded me. You hurt Ylisse, and I was too busy following you to rebuild the Pegasus Knights. Phila and the others died for me because they thought I was the most dedicated Pegasus Knight. It was my responsibility to rebuild everything. It was my responsibility to ensure that the order that had protected Ylisse for thousands of years would survive. I failed them because I was too busy following you."

"I… I just… I didn't mean to-"

Mercer fell to his knees and ran his hands through his disheveled hair. "Stop it! Stop talking to me!" He cried out. When he looked up again, he saw other Shepherds looking down at him. Frederick helped him to his feet.

"Milord, I swore to always be at your side, but that was because I believed in your cause. For you to give up like this, to sit and do nothing, you dishonor everything I lived for."

Mercer looked away to see Gaius. "A bag of candy! All that killing I did for you, all over a bag of candy! How could I be so idiotic?!"

Mercer stumbled backwards and saw Vaike. "We were always sparring with each other, weren't we? We would really throw everything we had into winning. I guess you beat all of us in the end. All of us."

Mercer turned around to see Nowi looking at him, her lip quivering. "Why did you attack me?! What did I ever do to you?! For so long I never knew any humans, but you were so nice to me. I trusted you. Why did you attack me?!"

Mercer looked away to see Tharja shaking her head. "When we first met, I told you I might stab you in the back. I never thought you'd do it to me."

Mercer turned away again to see Henry smiling at him. "And I thought I had a knack for killing! Watching you throw yourself at your friends and family, carving them into little pieces, that was really something! I just wished you killed our enemies like that, instead of us."

Mercer stumbled backwards and closed his eyes while shaking his head. "Leave me alone! All of you! Leave me alone!" He fell into some barrels and could only bring himself to his feet after several minutes. When he looked up, he saw Lissa, Emmeryn, and a strange man.

Lissa looked at him with a mixture of rage and sadness. "You said you'd always be there for me! You used to get mad at me when I acted irresponsibly. You said you just wanted to keep me safe, but you… you _butchered_ ME!"

"Lissa! I'm sorry! I would never-"

Lissa disappeared, and Emmeryn walked up to Mercer. "Oh, Chrom. I'm so glad to see that you're safe. My adorable baby brother. I wished you could stay that way forever, but I knew you would someday take up the Falchion. I saw our father's violence in you. I just hoped you would be able to use it to help people. You made me so proud. I'm sorry about what happened. I just hope you can find peace."

Mercer fell back to his knees and wept. "Emmeryn…" When Mercer finally looked up again, he saw the man standing over him. The man was tall and armored, and he had a frazzled blue beard on his face. Through that beard, Mercer could see the Mark of Naga on his right cheek. "F-father?!"

"So you're all grown up. Look at you, boy. I always knew you would be too weak to protect Ylisse. You looked down on me. You and your elder sister. You called me a warmonger and an imperialist. I did everything I did for the future of Ylisse. The people of Ylisse are suffering because you were too weak to protect them. You have no right to look down on me!"

Mercer buried his face in his hands and struggled to hold back his tears. "Oh, gods. I'm sorry everyone. I'm so sorry." Mercer whimpered to himself in a drunken slur. When he stood up again, he found himself in a crowd. It was like the crowd he had seen Cervantes speaking to, but he didn't recognize anyone in the crowd or the speaker.

"Alright everyone! Gather round. Listen to my tale. It's a good one. It's a story that reminds me of the fight between the Shepherds and Grima, so many years ago. There once was a lion cub, abandoned by its parents. The cub was found by an elderly ram. This ram had once been a proud and powerful beast, and it was formidable still, but it was also old and frail. The ram took the lion cub under its care. He raised her as if she were his own lamb. The ram knew however, that he could never match up to the lion. He raised her as if she were but an ewe." Mercer couldn't help but listen to the strange story, and he struggled to connect it to the Shepherds. Then he started to think about Lucina. "One day a terrible dragon, with four leathery wings and six glowing eyes, began to prey upon the herd. The dragon would swoop down and grab sheep right from the flock, and the elder ram rallied his kin to battle as if he were the shepherd. When the dragon returned next, it found one angry flock of sheep waiting for it. The sheep fought hard, but they were only sheep. The lion though? The lion was fierce, and with claw and fang she caused the dragon much grief. But in the end, in the end, the lion was doomed. Perhaps had she fought as ferociously as she could, she may have driven back the dragon, but alas she did not fight as fiercely as a lion could have. Instead, she fought as fiercely as an elderly ram could have." Mercer looked up at the speaker solemnly as his mind was consumed by painful memories of his daughter. She had once been so independent, but when she joined the Shepherds she became a lot like him. She began to fight like him. She followed the orders she was given without question, whereas she had worked entirely on her own when she first came back to this time. Mercer wanted her to feel like she belonged, but did being with him doom her? "The battle was witnessed by the actual shepherd, and he returned to his family in frustration as the dragon swooped away, free to terrorize the flock once more. As the shepherd returned to his children, he warned them that times would be hard as the dragon preyed on his sheep. His children seemed surprised. They asked 'Didn't we have a lion in our flock? She looked so powerful. Could she have driven off the dragon?' The man shook his head, and replied "Aye. That lion was powerful. She might have fought off that dragon if she'd fought as a lion, but if you'd ask her, she'd tell you she was a sheep.'" The speaker chuckled at his own story as Mercer stared blankly ahead. "Lions lead by sheep. That was the problem thirty years ago. Now though, now the people lead their own struggle for freedom. The Arch Surg will not falter!" The people in the crowd raised their weapons and roared.

"Shut the hell up!" Mercer roared at the crowd. Somehow the soldiers heard him through their roaring, and they all turned and stared at him. One by one everyone in the crowd disappeared into mist, until there were only a few people remaining. One large man with a sinister smile walked up to Mercer. "Excellus?!"

The former member of the Grimleal and tactician for Walhart cackled. "Oh! It seems that the brave prince wasn't able to stop us in the end now was he? Hee hee hee, you thought that you could prevail over my deceitful methods. Your honor and virtue wasn't enough to stop us. We won in the end, didn't we?!"

"Shut up you fat… you… you little… shut up you fat!"

Excellus disappeared and Walhart himself approached Mercer. "Look at you, boy! Look how pathetic you are. Once you had the audacity to come to my continent and challenge me. Once you claimed that my ideology was wrong, and that your beliefs were correct. Now look at you. You're just a drunken old man! You should have died then, and my empire should have lived! Maybe I wouldn't have been able to stop the Fell Dragon's resurrection, but at least I would have had the strength to keep fighting for the world."

"Leave me alone!" Mercer tried to swipe at Walhart, but he shoved him to his back.

"Mewling worm!" Mercer tried to get back up. As he did, Aversa crouched by him and ran her finger down his chest.

"Oh, poor baby. Do you miss your family, love? I guess you weren't above my manipulations after all."

"You!" Mercer snarled. Aversa laughed.

"Prince Chrom, descendant of the Hero King himself, was defeated by my spells. Not bad for a peasant woman huh?" Mercer tried to get up and attack as Aversa smiled menacingly and walked away. When he finally did, he saw Kryczek standing over him.

"Your daughter belongs to us now. She is a weapon for Gangrel. That is what you have left for the world. She is the epitome of your legacy."

Mercer roared at Kryczek and stumbled. When he got up again, he found Gangrel himself standing over him. He wore the same clothes he wore during the war between Ylisse and Plegia thirty years ago, and he brought his lips into a twisted and sadistic smile as he laid his eyes on Mercer. Mercer went into a fury at the sight of him, but in his drunken stupor he struggled to reach him.

"Well if it isn't my old friend? Calm yourself, boy, and retreat back to your pen. You haven't the mettle for the world I've created."

"Aaarrgh!"

"Look at you. You were born into a family that has ruled over this land for thousands of years. A family of great heroes and warriors! A family blessed by Naga herself! What did you do with it? Leading around a group of young men and women thinking what, that you were bettering society? You thought they were your friends? Your family? You thought that you could stand with them as an equal? Ha! You believed that you were protecting and standing up for the common man, but your life was defined by entitlement! Without your birth, you never would have been able to create the Shepherds! You never would have recruited many of your allies! If you had been a commoner, and had tried to create your militia, you would have been hunted down by the military as a threat to the state. As prince though, everyone fawned over you. They threw themselves to your feet and begged for but a glance from you. You did nothing to earn your place in society!"

"GRRRAAAGH!"

"Me? I rose to become what I am! I was born in the slums! I had nothing! I became king through strength! Through my own force of will! Even when you thought me defeated, I rose again! I unified humanity! I saved the world from the Grimleal! I am the greatest hero in the history of humanity!" Gangrel rose his hands into the air. "I know what it's like to be at the bottom of society! I rose to my position through merit! I have dipped my hands in the dirt, and the mud, and the blood, and the sweat of the world, and withdrawing them, I find it is better to be a lord than a commoner!"

When Mercer finally reached Gangrel, the sun became blinding. Mercer shielded his eyes, and when he could finally open them again he found that he was no longer in the street. Mercer could hear horrifying screaming and shouting behind him, and he turned to see memories he had long repressed. He could see his younger self, wearing the outfit he used to wear, fighting with the rest of the Shepherds. He saw himself slash off Tharja's legs. He wrenched Inigo's neck out of place. He severed Cynthia's arm at the elbow and kicked it into an advancing Sumia. He slashed Nah across the face as she fumbled for a dragonstone. He grappled with Robin and swung his sword through Cordelia's face when she tried to stop him. He engaged his own daughter in a bitter duel that ended with him rending off her arms and stabbing her through the abdomen. It was all accurate. Mercer hadn't allowed himself to think of that day so vividly in thirty years, but now everything was coming back to him. He could only remember fighting Risen, but he fought them exactly as the instance of himself in front of him did. "Stop it! No! Stop! NO!" Mercer fell to his knees and grabbed his head. "STOOOP! NO MORE! **_STAAAHHHHP_**!" When Mercer finally opened his eyes again, he saw himself standing over him. His armor was coated with blood, and his eyes glowed bright purple. He raised his sword and prepared to strike down Mercer, and Mercer simply hung his head and accepted it. As soon as the blade went through his head, Mercer was enveloped by another bright flash. When it ended, Mercer was back on the street. In front of him were Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori. Ophelia seemed to have some sympathy for him, but Soleil and Caeldori gave him bitter glares.

"Leave us alone!" Soleil shouted as she stepped in front of the others. "We don't want anything to do with you."

Mercer stuck his finger at them, struggling to hold it straight as he stumbled forward. "You three! I needed you. You ABANDONED me!"

"We abandoned _you_? We thought you could help the world, but you're the cause of its problems. Never speak to us again!"

The three girls disappeared and a much older Gaius appeared. "I won't let you lead more young people to their deaths. I won't let innocents suffer again because of you."

"Go away!"

Gaius disappeared and Mercer found Tiki looking at him sadly. "Why can't you see that there's still a hero in you? It's not too late to help the world. You can still protect humanity. You can still be like your ancestors."

"What do you know about humanity?! For thousands of years you slept through all our suffering! Don't tell me what I should do!"

Tiki disappeared and Mercer could see Cordelia again. This time she was much older, and she had her blindfold over her eyes. "Oh, Chrom. Why can't you see that I forgive you. Why can't you see that you can still be the man you were thirty years ago. I failed to rebuild the Pegasus Knights… but that doesn't mean I can't serve the Exalt."

Mercer fell to his knees. He couldn't bear to look up at Cordelia, even when she approached him and placed her hand on his shoulders. "Cordelia… I don't deserve your forgiveness."

"You took my husband from me. You took my best friend from me. You took my daughters from me. But I forgive you. I want you to forgive yourself." Cordelia turned and walked away. "But if you won't, then I will leave you alone."

"Wait! No! Don't go!"

"You can't bear to lose your loved ones again, but you won't be there for them when they need you? If you won't help us, then we will leave you alone. We haven't given up on the world. We will fight for it. We want you to fight with us. We want you to be the hero that we know you still can be. If you won't fight for the world, then we will leave you alone. That's what you originally wanted right? To die in peace? I love you, but if you push me away, then you'll find the peace that you wanted… and there won't be a man or woman by your side to share it with you."

"No! Please! NO!" Mercer reached up at Cordelia, but she disappeared. This time no one else materialized in front of Mercer. He was left alone. "You left me! Gods-damn you all! You abandoned me!" Mercer hung his head and whimpered. "Please… don't leave me."

* * *

Mercer opened his eyes to find himself sprawled out in a hay cart. A stinging headache hit him as soon as he tried to move, and he was so overwhelmed by the taste of vomit in his mouth that he could barely manage a groan. Over the course of several minutes, Mercer slowly made his way out of the cart. When he finally hit the street, he was rewarded with gravel in the face and the urge to vomit.

"Mercer?"

Mercer had to wait half a minute before he finally finished regurgitating to look up at his grandniece. Ophelia was clearly unnerved by the sight of him, but she put on a faint smile. "Ophelia?! You're okay!"

"Yes. I-" Ophelia winced as Mercer vomited again. "Are you… are you okay?" Mercer's only response was a kind of gurgling grunt. Ophelia looked down. "Cordelia was right. You had no control over your drinking."

"You talked to her?" Mercer said in a soft tone, his voice choked with guilt.

"She was there when I woke up. So were Soleil and Caeldori. Even Gaius was there. Everyone was there except for you."

"I… I didn't know. But I can be there for you now-" Mercer quickly turned around and threw up into the hay cart. Ophelia sighed.

"You don't have to respond anymore. I just… I just came to tell you something."

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry. For everything. All of the pain you've been feeling for the past several weeks is because of me. You just wanted to be left alone, and I dragged you out. I made you relive all of this misery."

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Mercer… no more. It doesn't have to be like this anymore. We all went to speak with the Arch Surg commander. He said that things might change when the Justicar, the man normally in charge of this settlement, returns, but for now you can stay here. So long as you help out with maintaining the place. I'm sorry you were kicked out of your town because of us. Really."

"What… what about you?" Ophelia glanced away. "You're leaving!"

"Not for awhile, but we will eventually. We only came here for medical attention. You don't have to leave with us. We want to fight against the Grimleal, Mercer. You wanted nothing to do with us, and we forced you into our fight. You're suffering because of us. I'm sorry for that. If you truly want to be left alone, then we'll do that. "

"Wait… that's not-" Mercer tried as hard as he could to resist it, but he was forced to turn and vomit again. Ophelia shook her head.

"I just… I just wanted to tell you. Don't feel like you have to stay with us if you don't want to. Just… just think about it." Ophelia almost grabbed Mercer's shoulder, but she ultimately recoiled as he continued to throw up. "But for everything you have done for us… thank you."

"Ophelia…"

"Just… come find us if you want to join us but… but don't feel like we're making you. We need you, but if you want to be alone then we won't make you fight for a cause you don't believe in. I know Soleil and Caeldori are angry with you, but I'm not. I promise I'm not. I can see how much suffering you've had to endure. We… we have no right to ask anything of you. Goodbye, Mercer."

Ophelia quickly turned around and hurried away, as if she were seconds away from breaking down. Part of Mercer wanted to follow her, but the rest of him forced himself back to the hay cart. The next thing he remembered doing was falling back into it and blacking out.

When Mercer regained consciousness, the sun was directly overhead and the street was crowded with Arch Surg soldiers and merchants who made a livelihood selling to them. Mercer was finally able to stand without considerable difficulty, so he brought himself to his feet and wandered around. "Ophelia?! Hello? OPHELIA?!" A few of the townspeople gave Mercer sideways glances, but no one responded. For several minutes Mercer stood in the street, staring blankly at anything that moved in front of him. Eventually his eyes drifted down to the Falchion still sheathed at his side, and the memories immediately came flooding back. He could see his fight against the dozens of Risen, every move he made, every way he killed them, and his stomach turned at the knowledge of what they really were. Every time he looked back at the sword, he saw it stained in blood. Mercer looked away and back at it several times, but he couldn't shake it from his mind. It was coated in blood each and every time.

The bartender that had served Mercer the previous night smiled as Mercer walked back into the building. "Well if it isn't my new regular? Sure he hits women and he yells at people that aren't actually there, but he doesn't piss all over the place. That alone makes him better than most of the off duty Arch Surg soldiers."

Mercer sat himself down on the same stool that he used before and slumped on the table. "Hrrmm." He moaned.

"Hey you know, you didn't actually drink that beer you paid for right before you started yelling at nothing. I can get you a bottle if you want? It's already paid for."

Mercer sighed. His mind briefly thought about Cordelia and Ophelia, but he also thought about the painful memories that continued to come flooding back to him. "Yeah." Mercer took out a handful of gold coins and slammed them on the table. "And I'll need a lot more than that."


	16. The Sins of the Mad Madman

Though Nowi Falls was a large settlement, it was not the true capital of the Archanean Liberation Front. That status actually fell to a small settlement named Belfire. Located a few kilometers south of the much larger city of Themis, Belfire was a small town hidden from public knowledge. Only the leadership of the Archanean Liberation Front was ever allowed into the town, and most people didn't even know of its existence. The town consisted of mainly stone buildings, and towering over the rest of the town was a massive stone citadel. The building dwarfed anything else in the town, and it looked like it belonged in another city.

Inside of this building, a tall and lanky young man approached an Arch Surg soldier in a large and fairly empty room. The man wore a very accurate but ill fitting replica of the attire once worn by Lucina, known among the Arch Surg as the Hero of Time or the Crusader of Naga, and had an estoc customized to look like the Falchion by his side. He even had a blue wig and a replica of Lucina's butterfly mask on his face. The soldier knelt before the man as he approached. "Justicar."

"I need to speak to Archangel. Where is she?"

The soldier chuckled. "Where do you think she is, Justicar? She's where she always is." The soldier pointed to the building's roof, then moved his finger to point at a large hole in the wall. Keith nodded.

"Will she be back soon?"

"She's got a bird's eye view of things up there. No way she didn't see your carriage coming in."

Keith walked over to a raised platform a few meters from the hole in the wall. The hole was not the result of damage, but was actually built into the structure, and it was large enough for a Pegasus to fly through. Through the hole, Keith could see for kilometers over the area. In the distance, just visible against the starry night sky, there was a white object making its way through the air. Keith retreated back to where the soldier was and straightened his posture. Within less than a minute, the flying object had hurtled its way to the headquarters. From a distance, the object appeared as a vast, predatory bird. Up close though, it was far larger than any bird. At the sight of its massive, stark white, feathery wings, the object seemed to be a Pegasus.

The object circled over the structure a few times before finally diving over the roof and swooping down through the hole in the wall, landing with a crash right onto the platform; the entity's massive wings flapping forwards once to break its momentum, sending a powerful gust of wind towards Keith and the soldier. The object extended its wings back and maneuvered them onto hooks mounted in the ceiling. With the creature's massive pinions securely fastened to the roof, it was apparent exactly what the object was. The wings were those of a Pegasus, but they had been attached to a human. At the center of the wingspan was a humanoid figure wearing a rudimentary flight suit, leaving no skin exposed. The figure slowly walked forward and detached themselves from the wings, revealing that a harness kept them attached to the figure's back. A woman's tortured shriek briefly thundered from the figure's helmet as they stepped forward, leaving behind bloody spikes on the harness that had been buried deep into her abdomen. The woman quickly tore off the helmet and grabbed a waiting elixir on a nearby table. As the medicine was consumed, the gaping wounds on her back disappeared.

"GAAAaah! Gah! Woo! What a rush! What a rush." Keith and the soldier knelt before the woman. She was middle aged, with light brown hair so faded that it was almost gray. She notably kept her hair in two ponytails, each one about as long as her head. The woman was also missing her left forearm at the elbow. She was dressed in very thick clothing that served to keep her warm at high altitudes, and her helmet featured goggles made from very thin cuts of smoky quartz that protected her eyes from wind gusts. The woman's boots were very large, much larger than her actual feet, and served to reinforce her when she made hard landings on the platform. "Can't believe I used to go into the air with no goggles and a short skirt back when I was a Pegasus Knight. Cold up there! Woo!" The woman stretched for a few seconds before noticing the two men in front of her. "Now what are you boys doing? Get up here."

The two men rose to their feet and Keith stepped forwards and bowed his head. "Archangel."

"Well, if it isn't the Justicar." The woman stomped over to Keith and tore the blue wig and mask off his face. "What the hell did I tell you about wearing this in front of me?!"

"I-I'm sorry, Archangel. I honestly forget that I'm wearing them."

"Well you can be as obsessed with Lucina as you want on your own, but don't wear that crap in front of me." Archangel glanced down to the replica of Lucina's butterfly mask. "It brings up painful memories."

"Yes, Archangel."

The woman put on a very serious expression and looked Keith in the eyes, but she also extended her arms outwards. Keith awkwardly stepped forward and hugged her, and Archangel wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I've missed you." Archangel kissed Keith on the cheek and stepped back, grabbing his shoulders and playfully shaking him. "Why didn't you check with me earlier? I went weeks without knowing where you were!"

"I'm sorry. Surely you've heard about the destruction of Veslil by Tunnellers? It took me weeks to escape and make my way back to our lines."

"Don't lie to your mother, baby. My scouts told me you showed up at The Midmire to help our forces there against the Grimleal. I appreciate your dedication, but checking up with your mother should have been the first thing you did!"

"I'm sorry, mom."

"That's better." Archangel turned to the soldier beside Keith and handed him a rag. "This is a private conversation, kid. Go clean the blood and spinal fluid off my harness, would you?" The soldier nodded and walked towards the flight harness. Archangel turned back to Keith and smiled. "Now did you come here just to let me know you're okay, or did you have news?"

Keith straightened his posture. "Yes, Archangel. I've just received word from Cervantes in Nowi Falls. Chrom has arrived."

Archangel took a deep breath and studied Keith. "Has he now? How convenient for you."

"I've done what you asked of me."

"Yeah… no. I told you to bring him to Nowi Falls, but you failed. It was by coincidence that he wandered there on his own."

Keith's first instinct was to argue, but he swallowed his pride. "Yes, Archangel."

"Don't fail me again, boy. Go there at once, and make sure he stays put this time. Now is he with anyone?"

Keith vigorously nodded. "Yes and he has more companions than before, so in a way it was fortuitous that he escaped me in Veslil."

"Don't push it, baby."

"Right. Ophelia and Soleil are still with him, but he also has three new companions. A Pegasus Knight named Caeldori."

"A Pegasus Knight? How?!"

"She's a young woman. She couldn't have been born before the Grimleal took over the world."

"Then how could she have been trained?!"

"She was trained by her maternal grandmother. Chrom also has two former members of the Shepherds with him, Gaius and Cordelia. Cordelia trained Caeldori."

Archangel froze. "Gaius and… aunt Cordelia. I can't… I can't believe it. She's alive. There were other survivors."

"It's very likely that Severa was able to survive the fall of the Shepherds, given that Cordelia is Caeldori's maternal grandmother."

"Yes, Keith. I'm well aware of where babies come from." Archangel thought for a few seconds, her eyes nervously darting around. "Get them, Keith."

"All of them?"

"Yes. All of them. Bring them here. I want to talk to all of them."

"At once, Archangel." Keith sheepishly held out his hand, and Archangel returned his wig and mask to him. Keith nodded and began to walk away.

"Keith!"

Keith sighed and turned around. "What?!" Keith was initially annoyed, but he quickly changed his tune. "I mean, I mean… yes Archangel?"

"Don't snap at me, boy! Get over here!" Keith hung his head and reluctantly returned to his adoptive mother. Archangel ran her fingers through his jet black hair. "Hey, you're a good kid. Mom loves you okay? Answer me."

"Ugh. Okay, mother."

"It's just that you make mistakes sometimes. Now go and make sure Chrom doesn't leave this time. I will talk to him again, after all these years."

"Yes, Archangel." Keith turned and finally left the building, and Archangel turned back to her flight harness.

"Hey, watch the feathers! Unless you have a spare Pegasus lying around, I won't be getting new wings anytime soon!"

* * *

Mercer was slumped in his bar stool, several empty bottles of beer in front of him, when Gaius confronted him for the first time since he had appeared at the homestead. He greeted Mercer by grabbing the back of his head and slamming it into the table. "You sack of trash! The one woman, _the one woman_ , in this world that still gives a rat's furry butt about you tries to help and you slap her around like a sick dog!" Mercer slowly turned his head to see Gaius. Though he was wearing his strange goggles, his rage was apparent to anyone.

"Hello, Gaius." Mercer muttered. "Come to bring up old wounds?"

"Is that all you have to say?!" Gaius forced Mercer to his feet and grabbed him by the collar. "You and I are going to have a talk."

The bartender slammed his fists on the table. "Hey you two! Whatever this is, just take it outside."

"Or what?" Gaius snapped. The bartender reached below the table and pulled out a short firearm with a large caliber barrel, flared at the muzzle so that whatever it fired would spread out over close range. He slammed it on the table, and Gaius stared at it for a second before looking back to the bartender. "We'll go outside."

Gaius dragged Mercer out of the building and forced him against a wall. He raised his goggles and shot a death glare at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?! What is wrong with you?! She has every right, every right, to abandon your sorry rear and she chooses to try and help you. How do you repay her?! Huh! How do you repay her?!"

"Leave me alone."

Gaius slammed Mercer against the wall again. "Listen to me. I don't know what's going on here. I never remembered you touching a drop thirty years ago. I don't care that you hate yourself, or that you want to drink yourself to death, but you can't go around hurting others." Gaius punched Mercer in the abdomen, and then restrained his arms so that he couldn't even reflexively grab at it. "You're not going to hurt anyone else like that. Ever again." Mercer responded by spitting at Gaius. He tensed up in rage, and he almost reached for one of his pistols before he stopped himself. "You… you want me to hurt you? Don't you? In your twisted, messed up mind, you think that any suffering you endure is a form of penance. You think that if you're miserable, you're somehow atoning for what you did. That's why you're trying to drink yourself to death. That's why you push everyone away. You think that if you're miserable, you're making up for what you did! That makes no sense! Only by going out into the world and fixing the problems you caused would you be making up for what you did!"

"Go away."

Gaius shook his head. "Those girls really think they're doing something, Blue. If you care about them at all, you won't come with them. I know you're not going to fight with them, so don't go getting their hopes up. Just leave. We can leave you in peace, but we're not coming back for you." Gaius turned and walked away as Mercer slowly fell to his knees and held his abdomen. After a few minutes of wincing, Mercer brought himself to his feet and wandered back to his bar stool. The bartender brought him another beer, but he made sure Mercer noticed his firearm before putting it away and leaving. Mercer tried to take a sip, but Ophelia's voice involuntarily tunneled its way into his head. _Are you afraid of going with us because you don't want to get close to anyone again? Are you afraid we'll get hurt, and you'd relive what happened thirty years ago?_ Mercer brought his hands to his head, and Soleil's voice came next. _The hero that Ophelia desperately wants is gone, isn't he? I know you don't believe in our cause. I know you just want to live the rest of your life in peace. I know you do want nothing more than to die._ Caeldori's voice came next. _He's a good man! He's sorry about what happened!_

"Stop!" Mercer slammed his head on the table. "Stop." Cordelia's voice followed after Caeldori's. _I have to tell you that I love you so that, so that you know that you don't have to feel this way about yourself. No one hates you more than you do. A lot of people still look up to you. A lot of people still think you're a great man. A lot of people still love you. I just… the way I feel about you… I just wish you felt that way about yourself._ Mercer shook his head and tried to take another sip of his beer, but he couldn't do it. He slowly placed it back down and sighed. "I have to talk to her."

* * *

After hours of searching for her, Mercer finally found Cordelia in the city's wyvern stables, tending to her Pegasus. Mercer never got a good look at her back at the homestead, but now he could see that Cordelia's Pegasus was the same one she had ridden thirty years ago. Cordelia's Pegasus had since become weathered and frail. She tried not to put weight on one of her back legs, and her feathers were ruffled and deteriorated. Much of her hair had turned gray, her bone structure was easily visible through her degenerating skin, her neck was narrow and had slack at the base, and her individual ribs could be seen. She was far older than any Pegasus Mercer had ever seen before, but she had apparently managed to fly alongside Minerva and Vasto's wyvern riders all the way to Nowi Falls regardless. In front of her was Cordelia herself. She was completely apathetic to the wyverns stabled all around her, many of them biting and snarling at the intruder. She just smiled and calmly brushed her Pegasus' hair, periodically stopping to nuzzle her or kiss her snout. On the side of her face was a bruise, exactly where Mercer had struck her, and Mercer felt his heart sink into an inaccessible crevice lodged in his very soul. The guilt he felt whenever he looked right at her became unbearable, and Mercer almost turned and walked away. Cordelia heard his pained groans before he could, and she froze.

"Chrom?!"

Mercer shuddered, but he forced himself to turn around. "Yes."

"I-I'm sorry. I mean, Mercer."

"Aurora. That's her name right?"

Cordelia glanced back to her Pegasus. "Yes. That's her name. I can't… I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember everything. I don't want to relive it all, but I remember everything." Mercer slowly approached Cordelia, and when he reached her he fell to his knees and started quivering. "I am so sorry. I… I can't… oh gods."

"Stop."

"Oh gods I'm sorry!"

Cordelia knelt down and placed both of her hands on Mercer's shoulders. "Hey, hey." She said in a very soft voice. It only made Mercer more pained. "Come on, stop. I don't want to see you like this."

"Aren't you angry with me?! After everything you did for me, you should be angry with me!"

"We've talked about this. I forgive you. You've taken so much from me, from all of us, but you also gave us so much… and you can still give so much to the world. I forgive you. I do."

"I don't deserve that!" Cordelia didn't say anything more. She firmly held Mercer's shoulders and waited for him to calm down. For awhile Mercer couldn't control himself, and his tortured breathing became sobbing. Cordelia was patient with him, and she didn't speak up again or move. She just planted her hands on his shoulders and gave him a soft smile as he wept in front of her, and eventually Mercer was able to steel himself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm okay."

"It's alright, Mercer. I'm here for you."

"You shouldn't be. I don't want you to be. I just… I'm only going to keep failing you. Do you realize how I feel when you treat me like this?! I just, I can't take the guilt! You should feel like Gaius. You shouldn't feel this way about me!"

Cordelia rose to her feet. "Mercer, stop this." She said in a far more serious tone than she had ever used with him. "Stop this right now. I have these feelings for you yes, but that's not why I need to help you. I'm sworn to serve the Exalt as a Pegasus Knight, but that's not why I need to help you."

"Then… why?"

"Because we're at war! Mercer, what happened thirty years ago doesn't matter. I'm horrified by what you did to us, and I'm sure you feel so much worse, but it's in the past. What happened is behind us. Who we were is behind us. Those are old world echoes. What matters now is that the world still has a chance. Things are bad, but I still believe the world can be saved. So do the girls. We're not going to just sit by and do nothing while innocent people suffer!" Cordelia helped Mercer to his feet and clasped his hands. "Remember when I told you how I felt when we were together at my house? You asked me when it started. I told you I didn't know. I do remember now though. We were both very young. Children. I had heard about you, but I'd never seen you before. I was in the royal palace, watching Pegasus Knights. I wanted to be like them one day. They were so beautiful. So powerful. So regal. They were the perfect women, and I wanted to be perfect like them. I started doing as many chores as I could to help out. I wanted to practice. I wanted to be like them more than anything. I tried to do too much at once though, and I almost got hurt. You saved me. You helped me to my feet, gave me that smile, and I… I've just felt this way ever since." Cordelia took a deep breath. "Do you… do you remember that?"

Mercer desperately wanted to tell Cordelia what he thought she wanted to hear, but he knew she would see through anything he made up. He tried to remember, but he couldn't. His childhood wasn't something he allowed himself to think about. There were a few happy memories, like his friendship with Sully or the time he spent with Emmeryn, but there were also the things he didn't want to remember, like the abuses of his father or the way Emmeryn treated him differently after he started training with the Falchion. "I'm sorry, Cordelia, but I don't. There were so many people in the palace."

"Well… I remember. As fate would have it, we would be part of each other's lives. It's fate that we're together again. I followed you for so many reasons. I did it because of these feelings, and because Phila asked me to, and because I am sworn to protect the Exalt, but also because I believed you could protect the world, and because I believed you were a great man. Now that I have the opportunity to see you again after all these years, I cannot allow myself to sit by and do nothing while you spiral into self destruction. I'm still a soldier. I'm still part of an order that has served the Exalts for a thousand years. I'm still going to fight for the world, and I'm still going to be there for you. You saved me once. Now I can save you."

"I see now. Your station blinds you. I don't think these feelings are real. You're just… you just feel that you need to protect me. It doesn't have to be this way. You can be free to hate me."

"What?!"

"After everything I did, hating me is the only reaction that makes sense."

Cordelia gave Mercer an incredulous expression and shook her head. "Shut up."

"What?"

"SHUT THE HELL UP! Just, just stop!" Mercer took a step back and Cordelia shook with frustration. "I can't, I can't deal with this anymore! I just, I can't! I have tried and tried to make you stop hating yourself. I have tried to convince you that there's still a good man in you. Maybe I can't. Maybe it was a fantasy to think that I could make you the man you were thirty years ago again. I'm sorry, Mercer. For everything I've done that might have hurt you."

"Cordelia…"

"I can't deal with this anymore! You can't be around the girls anymore, Mercer. Not if you're like this. They looked up to you because they wanted a role model. They need a strong leader. They need someone to be there for them when they stumble and fall. They need someone to teach them honor and empathy, even in the face of violence, and to teach them how to protect the world. They need someone to show them that you don't have to give up no matter how bad things get. You can't be around them when you're like this! You can't be around them when you're some drunken self-hating wreck! I want you to stop hating yourself. I want you to realize that people still need you. I want you to realize that you can still be a hero! If you won't though, then you can't be around us anymore. You want to protect the girls, but you won't fight for their cause! We need soldiers! We want you to be with us. We want you to help us, and we want to help you. If you won't fight with us, then we'll leave you alone. You can live out the rest of your life quietly, and you can hate yourself as much as you want, but we won't come back for you. If you won't help us then, then just go! Just GO!" Cordelia took several deep breaths as a stunned Mercer thought about what she said. "But… but if you'll help us… if you'll realize that you can still help the world… then we'll be there for you."

Mercer had always been disturbed by how friendly Cordelia was to him even after everything he did to her, and so part of him was relieved that Cordelia had finally snapped at him. There was another part of him that was horrified he felt that way. That part of him was at peace whenever he was around Cordelia, and now Mercer couldn't help but feel that he had ruined something. Mercer looked at Cordelia. He had never seen her face so twisted by rage and sadness. He wanted to say something. He didn't want to argue or even disagree, but he pleaded with himself to say something. After a few seconds of silence, Mercer just turned and walked away. Cordelia became genuinely shocked that he actually turned and left. "Wait." She whimpered beneath her breath. "I didn't… don't just…"

Cordelia leaned against against the wall of the stable and took irregular breaths as she tried to calm herself. She ran her hands down her Pegasus' face. "Oh girl. What have I done? What have-" Cordelia broke down crying into her longtime mount. She cried for several minutes before realizing that Mercer hadn't actually left the stable, and turned back to him. "WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?!" Mercer slowly walked towards her again. This time he didn't fall to his knees, but instead grabbed her shoulders as she had done to him. Cordelia's anger was replaced with confusion. "What… what are you still doing here?" Mercer didn't respond, and he didn't think. He just let his feelings guide his actions. Slowly and gently, he took he hands and ran them up Cordelia's shoulders to her cheeks. Cordelia didn't fight him until his fingers reached her blindfold. "Stop!"

"Why do you wear this blindfold?" Mercer asked in a soft tone. Cordelia responded so quietly that she was almost whispering.

"I don't want people to see my eyes."

"Why not?" Cordelia was visibly uncomfortable from the conversation, but Mercer's tenderness moved her.

"Because… because they're ugly. They're malformed. Just, just don't look at them."

"I'd like to see them."

"Why?!" Cordelia pleaded. There was a subtle horror in her face, but Mercer's voice became even softer.

"I need to see what I did to you."

Cordelia shivered, but Mercer untied her blindfold and removed it. Cordelia's eyes were visibly damaged from her injury. Mercer remembered her eyes being red when she was younger, but they had since turned a very light and unnatural shade of blue from damage to the layer of the iris that contained pigment. There were very dark lines running down the center of the whites of her eyes. They went through to her pupils, and they were in the same place in both of her eyes. They were likely from where the Falchion had physically gone through her eyes, and the strange formation was probably caused by the unnaturally rapid healing she received from a healing staff. The human eye wasn't capable of healing from that kind of damage normally, so the wound wouldn't have completely healed, and the deformation would have caused her permanent blindness over time. Cordelia's eyes were also a milky white from the formation of cataracts. Her eyes were pointed in two slightly different directions, and Cordelia likely wasn't even aware of it. Cordelia stopped shaking after Mercer took off her blindfold. She stood in paralyzed fear, breathing irregularly before she could finally bring herself to speak. "They're hideous aren't they?!"

"No, no. They're not."

"You're just saying that!"

"No… they're beautiful."

"You don't-"

Mercer closed his own eyes and brought his lips to Cordelia's. She froze up again, this time out of shock. When Mercer stopped, she could barely breath. Mercer smiled and gave a soft laugh. "Do you believe me now?"

Cordelia giggled at her own words being thrown back at her, and she and Mercer embraced. The two just held each other and took in the moment for a few minutes, and then Mercer tried to look into her eyes. Cordelia ran her hands down his face, carefully feeling for every detail, every contour, every feature. Mercer stared intently at Cordelia, and she caressed him in her own way of seeing him. Mercer hadn't felt peace like that in thirty years, and he wanted to tell her, but she wrapped her arms around him and jumped on him before he could.

* * *

Ophelia and Caeldori made their way to the wyvern stable Cordelia and Mercer had been at. "Where could she be?" Ophelia asked. "She's not at the living quarters they gave us, or anywhere else. It's getting late."

"She's probably here." Caeldori responded.

"These are wyvern stables."

"But there wasn't anywhere else to put her Pegasus, so she's probably here tending to her. Just check."

Ophelia banged on the door. "Cordelia?! Are you here? Hello? Anyone?!" Ophelia shrugged and turned back to Caeldori. "She's not here."

"Just check inside."

Ophelia opened the door just wide enough to slip in. "Cordelia? Are you here-" Ophelia quickly shut the door and stood blocking it, her face as red as Caeldori's hair. "Don't go in there."

"What?"

"Don't go in there!"

"What's wrong with you?" Ophelia felt the need to whisper what she saw in Caeldori's ear, and her face immediately contorted. "AAHHH!"

"I know!"

"My grandmother!"

"I know!"

"That's so gross!"

"I KNOW! They're both like a hundred!"

Soleil walked up behind them. "What are you screaming about?" Caeldori whispered in Soleil's ear, but she just shrugged. "Surrounded by wyverns? Kinky."

* * *

With the Fell Dragon's ascension, the majority of the Ylissean continent had become a barren and uninhabitable land. Outside of a few fertile bands of forests and agriculture, most of the land was now desert or part of the badlands. With no soil to stop desertification from taking place, the deserts grew larger every year. Once the Border Sands was a desert on the border between Plegia and Ferox. In thirty years however, the desert had grown to encompass almost a tenth of the continent. Within a century it would cover everything save for the forests. In time, they too would be worn away. Within a millennia the planet would be as an alien word, with only ruins and echoes to show that it had ever nurtured life on its surface.

Standing a few meters away from a parked carriage and a tent was a heavily armored man, his face covered by a mask and bandaging around a bullet wound on the back of his head. The man drew a tome and fired a blast of energy into the air. The blast paused in mid flight and suspended itself in front of the man. A humanoid figure materialized from the magical energy, and the image slowly became more and more detailed until it was clear that it depicted a Grimleal soldier. The soldier looked at the armored man and nodded. "Courtney! Sir!"

"Report."

"We've found them, sir." The flickering figure answered. "Chrom, Ophelia, and the others have encountered the Arch Surg. They've been taken to Nowi Falls, a large settlement in the Border Sands. The Arch Surg forces are well entrenched, and they can see us coming from kilometers away. You don't have the strength for a frontal assault. Recommend mission abort."

"Acknowledged, reconnaissance." Courtney put his tome away and walked into a makeshift tent behind him, finding Kryczek and E-13 inside. E-13 was out of her shackles. She calmly picked at a bowl of mixed nuts on her lap, but she was otherwise perfectly still. Kryczek stood behind her, combing leaves and twigs out of her hair. E-13's shoulder wound and abdomen wound were bandaged, and bottles of medicine and disinfectant were scattered around. Kryczek was constantly moving around her, straightening her hair and using his finger to smudge dirt and grime off of her face, as if she were a small child. Courtney could only watch for so long before he had to speak up. "The hell are you doing?!"

"Tending to E-13." Kryczek responded without looking up. Courtney watched as he coated his finger with saliva and wiped a dirt smear from E-13's cheek. She winced and shot him an annoyed glance, but otherwise waited patiently for him to stop. Kryczek went back to brushing her hair, and E-13 returned to picking at her bowl of nuts. Neither of them acknowledged Courtney in any way.

"Is that what you call tending to her? You're treating her like she's a little girl who fell down climbing a tree."

"She's not capable of personal grooming. She'd leave those twigs in her hair and that grime on her face forever if I didn't clean it off."

"What's wrong with that?"

"She may be a weapon, but that doesn't mean she can't be presentable."

"Shouldn't she be in her shackles?"

"I'll restrain her at the first signs of unauthorized aggression, but she's clearly calm."

Courtney stared at Kryczek for several seconds, studying his every move. "You never had kids of your own did you doc?"

"No." Kryczek responded, still not looking up. "Married to the work I'm afraid. I just never had much time for a family when I was a professor at the University of Themis. Always going off on expeditions or running experiments or, Naga forbid, having to teach undergraduates. When the Fell Dragon took over, I had no time at all. I worked hard to be part of this regime. The opportunities for scientific study couldn't be passed up. Ever since I was tasked with the Reaver program, there just hasn't been time for anything else."

"Well she's not your daughter."

"How very astute of you, Courtney. I was already well aware of our lack of blood relation, but thank you for pointing that out."

"You know damn well what I mean, college boy. She's a weapon. Nothing more. You're too attached to her."

Kryczek finally looked Courtney in the eye. "Do not dare to to tell me how I should treat her. The Reaver program is my brainchild. I have known this woman since she was an infant. I will interact with her as I see fit."

"You know what I think? I think she's a wild animal, and you have to let her off her leash. The other Lucina was a soldier to the bone. Think of how violent this one could be? No empathy. No restraint. No rules. She could be war incarnate."

Kryczek took a deep breath and tried very hard to calm himself. "Any meaningful exchange that could come from this conversation has passed. I think you should leave."

"Whatever. I just came here to say that I'll have to ask Gangrel for reinforcements. We might be here a while."

Courtney exited the tent and Kryczek went back to brushing E-13's hair. "Don't listen to that man." Kryczek whispered in her ear. "Daddy is very proud of what you've done for the world."

Courtney stepped back outside and took out his tome. He shot a blast of energy that froze in midair and slowly materialized into the form of Gangrel. Courtney waited patiently for several minutes. The figure was completely static until Gangrel actually responded to the communication. "Report, Operations Commander."

"Yeah nice to see you too. I need more men."

Gangrel's bitter expression was clear even through the flickering and poorly detailed image. "How hard could it be to take care of four people?!"

"They've holed up with the Arch Surg. You know, the terrorists? I don't have enough strength to assault the settlement."

"Which settlement?"

"Nowi Falls. Where Tiki the less important died about ten years ago? We've known about the Arch Surg there for years, but they're heavily fortified. I guess now we've got a good reason to hit the place."

"Ah yes. Countless times I've tasked General Rouchfort with taking that settlement, but he always tells me it's impossible. The Arch Surg can resist anything short of a full scale assault, and if we send an army that large they'll just pack up and leave. The desert lets them see for kilometers. I'm assuming you think you can do better?"

"I think I have a plan, Emperor. I'll need command of the 4th army from Regna Ferox, but I also want Inquisitors transferred to me. Preferably the ones they use to summon Tunneller attacks."

"You're asking a lot."

"Trust me. The army won't even see battle. I know how to root them out."

"Then what do you need it for?"

"I'll fill you in when I've worked out the plan. Just trust me on this."

Gangrel seemed to sigh, though it was difficult to tell through the image. "Alright. I'll make the arrangements, but be careful Courtney. It's one thing to throw away Reavers. You're not losing an entire army."

"Oh like the Mad King is so well known for caring about his troops." Courtney said dryly.

"Excuse me?! I didn't quite hear that!"

"I said I'll contact you."

Courtney ended the transmission. Gangrel put his tome away and walked back to his throne. "Idiot. Kryczek better not let him screw this up. How hard could it be to kill an old man and his sad replacement daughters?!"

"Ha! You criticize other men for not having the strength to defeat their foes." Gangrel recoiled and turned to find Walhart the Conqueror staring at him. He was wearing the same armor he wore thirty years ago, and he had his Wolf Berg. He stood in front of Gangrel's throne and stared him down. "You didn't exactly stand against the Shepherds yourself. You hid behind Aversa's illusions."

Gangrel shot up from his throne and threw himself at Walhart, repeatedly jamming his finger through the hallucination. "Shut up! Everything that happened is your fault! If you hadn't threatened us, then I wouldn't have went to war with Ylisse. I just wanted to unite the continent against you. Everything that happened… happened because of… uh… THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Nothing is ever your fault is it, Gangrel? Even now you won't take responsibility for your failures, and for the evils done under you."

"We're no different. You were a brutal conqueror. People died because of you!"

"I fought for an idea. I wanted to unite humanity against the tyranny of gods, and defeat the Grimleal. I had a vision of a strong, unified human race, free from the petty squabbles of kingdoms. I fought for my beliefs, and I didn't back down from challenges. You hid behind your power and were too afraid to face your enemies. We are nothing alike." Gangrel didn't argue any further. He shook his head and stormed out of his throne room. Walhart turned and watched him as he left. "I forged my empire to stand against gods, but you turned over and pleaded for mercy like a sniveling pup when Grima came. At least the Shepherds were willing to fight to stop the Fell Dragon. You allowed yourself to be swept aside, and now you follow on its back in the pathetic hope of leeching off of its significance in history. Don't ever compare yourself to me or the Shepherds! You're nothing!"

Gangrel quickly walked, then full on sprinted down the winding hallways of the palace, stopping only when he reached the room of his sleeping child. He quietly snuck past his new handmaiden, apparently too tired to trade the chair she was in for her actual sleeping quarters, and plucked his infant daughter out of her crib. He gently cradled her in his arms and paced up and down the hallway, smiling at her and nuzzling her. "Oh, Emmeryn. Things are so much easier when you're in my arms. They don't talk to me when you're in my arms. They can't get me now. You… you keep me safe from them. We, we keep each other safe. Funny. Not the relation most parents have with their infant children." Gangrel's smile faded as he looked intently at his daughter's face. Emmeryn had inherited Gangrel's grayish and somewhat sickly skin tone, but she was otherwise a healthy and blissful baby girl. What hair she had was fiery red, like his own. When Emmeryn was awake, Gangrel could see her light blue eyes inherited from his wife. By coincidence they were the same color as the eyes of the woman she took her name from, the former Exalt of Ylisse. Gangrel's thoughts drifted to her, then to the rest of the Shepherds. "Oh… Emmeryn. You're so beautiful. How could something so peaceful and brilliant ever have come from a man like me? I… I still think about them. I remember the pained and tortured looks on their faces when I went back to the camp. When I saw their corpses scattered around. They took me in with open arms after everything I did to them, and I had them butchered." Gangrel was silent for several minutes. He just stared at his sleeping daughter before bringing himself to speak again. "They never understood that Grima couldn't be defeated. The Fell Dragon's ascension was inevitable. Sure they were powerful warriors, but the strongest ant in the mound is still no match for the boot. Only by avoiding the gardener can the mound survive. Only by negotiating with Grima could humanity be saved. The Shepherds would have never stopped fighting. Sure it would have made for a good song, but they would have doomed us all. I had to negotiate with Grima, and I had to make sure they wouldn't ruin it. I saved humanity. You never would have been born if I hadn't saved the world. So why…" Gangrel took a deep breath. "Why do I feel so guilty?"


	17. The Man who would be Princess

Mercer giggled as Cordelia buried her face in his shoulder, gently nibbling on him. "Cordelia! St-stop!"

Cordelia kissed his pectoral and climbed on top of him. "I've thought about you for forty years, baby. I don't want to stop now." Mercer laid his head back down on the pillow and Cordelia climbed up to be at eye level with him. "Mmm, you've picked up some new scars since you came to see me at the house."

"I'm sorry." Mercer said smiling. "Is that why you were touching me so thoroughly."

"That's only one reason." Cordelia and Mercer kissed and Cordelia went back to caressing his chest, her way of "seeing" him. The moment was ruined by a loud pounding at the door.

"HEY! OPEN UP!"

Mercer put his hand on Cordelia's cheek and turned her head to not yell in her ear. "Uh, who is it?!"

"CITY AUTHORITY! Open up or we're coming in!"

Mercer kissed Cordelia again and slowly climbed out from under her. "I'll deal with this." Cordelia sighed and sat up.

"Be careful."

"I'll be fine." Mercer responded as he fumbled for his pants. He made it to the door right before several armed soldiers kicked it open and forced themselves into the room.

"Chrom! By order of the Justicar, I am to take you to see him! We will use force if you resist us!"

Cordelia wandered into the room, covering herself with a bed sheet. "Vasto?"

Vasto glanced over to her. "Ooh, it looks like we interrupted something _saucy_."

"What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, Cordelia. This is nothing personal."

Mercer thought about fighting back, but the Falchion was across the room and he couldn't bear to think about anything happening to Cordelia. "Who is this Justicar?"

"He's the leader of the settlement."

"I thought Cervantes was the leader."

"The Justicar had been away for several weeks, but he just returned. He wants to see you."

"Alright, alright. I'll come peacefully. Just… just let me get some clothes."

"Yeah… I think we'd all appreciate that."

"I'm coming with him!" Cordelia said defiantly. Vasto shrugged.

"Fine. The Justicar needs to see Chrom, but he didn't say you couldn't come too. Follow me, err… after you get dressed."

"Will you give us some privacy?!"

"I have strict orders to not let you out of my… ah they don't pay me enough for this. You know what?! Finish up for all I care. Just make sure to swing by the citadel at some point."

"Err… thanks?"

"Just be glad they didn't send Pheros after you. Those Valmese generals are a lot less friendly."

* * *

In an alley near the city square, Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori found ways to pass the time. Soleil and Caeldori had fashioned a net and attached it to the wall of a building, and the two women took turns trying to throw a rubber ball into it. One would try to get it into the net, and the other would try to block it.

"What you got? Huh, Huh?! What you got?" Soleil said as she dribbled the ball between her hands. Soleil looked up at the net, and Caeldori reacted by getting ready to jump and block her shot. Soleil charged forward and bashed Caeldori in the face with the ball. Only after Caeldori had been knocked to the ground did she take her shot, and she raised her arms in the air as the ball went through the net. "Oh! She shoots, she scores! The Pegasus Knight has no air game! Ironic? I think so!"

Caeldori shot Soleil a nasty glare as she held her nose. "No fair! She hit me with the ball! Ref!"

Both Soleil and Caeldori turned to Ophelia, who had been sitting on a bench the whole time. She was fixated on levitating small rocks around her hand. "Hmm. Oh, sorry. I wasn't actually paying attention."

"Come on, Ophelia! You're supposed to be referee!"

"Athletic sports are boring. Why can't you two butt egos over something more intellectually stimulating?"

Soleil laughed as she retrieved the ball and dribbled it between her legs. "Oh you're just mad because I handed you your rear. Step off my court girl, before you get hurt."

"That's not fair! You can't hit me in the face with the ball!"

"Well I don't think it's fair that you get a metal hand!"

"A prosthetic hand is not a boon you hedge-born fizzle!"

Soleil and Caeldori turned at the sound of footsteps to see a man with strange goggles walking towards them. They tensed up at the sight of the man, and they moved to confront him. The man took out a lollipop he had in his mouth and smiled. "Blondie, Shrill, Copy."

"Scary guy." Soleil responded. "What do you want?"

"Do you three know where Cordelia is? I haven't seen her in a few days."

"Err, well…. neither have we. We don't really want to be around her right now."

"What? Why not?"

"She and Mercer have gotten real friendly."

"Yeah she is very sympathetic to him."

"No I mean they're _real friendly_ … wink, wink."

"What?"

Soleil sighed. "They're doing it."

"What do you mean… oh, OH. _**OH**_! When did this start?!"

"A few days ago."

"They've been together this whole time?!"

"There's thirty years of tension in there. Even those old geezers can probably go at it a few times before soreness becomes a problem. We don't really want to be around Mercer anyways, and we really don't want to be around him now that he's plowing Caeldori's grandma."

Gaius winced. "Stop talking about it. I don't want to think about that!"

Caeldori looked down. "How do you think I feel?"

"We don't know where Cordelia is. Why don't you check her living quarters and leave us alone." Soleil said bitterly as she dribbled the ball between her hands. She accidentally missed it as she bounced it back and forth, and Gaius caught it.

"Is this rubber?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

Gaius bounced the ball a few times. "Rubber doesn't even grow on this continent, and it's probably a lot rarer since the Fell Dragon took over. Where did you get this?!"

"We bought if from a store here for 500 gold."

"500 gold for a toy! You can't spend money like that!"

"It's our money. We get some from Tiki whenever she comes to see us."

"And when was the last time she came to see you."

"Well… I guess it has been a while."

"You three should be more responsible."

Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori all stared Gaius down. "We didn't ask you." Soleil said as she snatched the ball out of his hands. "Look, thanks for saving us from the Grimleal, but we don't want anything to do with you. Why don't you go join your Shepherd buddies."

"They're gone, Shrill. They've been gone for thirty years."

"Then why are you still hanging around?"

Gaius suppressed his anger and took deep breaths. "I'm sorry for how we met. It was nothing personal. I know I'll probably be out of your lives in a few days, but for now we should be able to depend on each other. Will this help?" Gaius took a bag of coins out of his pocket and handed it to Soleil. Soleil took it and felt the coins, unsure of what to think. "It looks like you don't have a reliable income, so how about I help you for now. Are we good?"

Soleil pocketed the money and looked up at Gaius. "I want a free one."

"A free one?"

"You overpowered us, tied us up, and threatened us. We need to do something to you to be even. I want to punch you in the face."

"What?! You've got to be kidding me!"

"We didn't ask you to come see us. I want a free one!"

Gaius ran his hands through his hair and groaned. "Fine. You can punch me _in the stomach_." Soleil punched Gaius in the stomach without hesitation. He fell to his knees in pain. "GAAAH! Gah! Ow."

"Ooh, that felt good."

Gaius slowly looked up at Soleil. "Are we… are we good?"

"No. You tied up all three of us, so we each get one. Caeldori?"

Caeldori shrugged and struck Gaius in the stomach. Soleil turned to Ophelia. "Ophelia?"

Ophelia was still fixated on levitating rocks around her hand. "Hmm? Oh, uh take mine for me."

Soleil punched Gaius in the stomach again. He fell on all fours and could only make a high pitched moaning noise for almost a minute. "Gah! GRRRRGH! Mother… agh! Gods-damnit! Aaagh! Are we… are we good?"

Soleil shrugged. "I guess."

Gaius brought himself to his feet, though he still had to clutch his stomach. "I don't think we've properly met. You're Olivia's granddaughter? Inigo's daughter?"

"Yes."

Gaius looked to Caeldori. "And you're Cordelia's granddaughter?" Caeldori nodded, and Gaius turned to Ophelia. "And your Lissa's granddaughter? You have that mark on you and everything?"

Ophelia nodded. "Yeah."

"Severa, Owain, Inigo… huh. When could they have had kids?!"

Soleil glanced around, a saddened expression taking her. "We uh… we never knew our parents. I still have my mother, but I had to leave her to be here."

Gaius turned back to Ophelia and Caeldori. "What about your other parents?"

Caeldori thought about it. "I was only five when I lost my father and mother. Mother said that father was moved by the Grimleal. Now I know better. I've seen first hand where the Grimleal move people to. I still remember him though. He had a soft, kind face, and long dark red hair. He kind of looked like Cordelia actually. I think mother may have had some kind of Oedipal complex."

Gaius shook his head. "Okay moving on. Ophelia?"

Ophelia gave him a pained look. "My mother raised me until I was eleven. One day she sent me to a nearby village to pick up some supplies. When I came back… the survivors told me that the Grimleal had taken half the village. I never saw her again. I've been fighting them ever since."

Gaius was still for some time. Eventually he lifted up his goggles and looked solemnly at the girls. "I'm… I'm sorry. You three are very brave. You three are heroes in your own right. I was so caught up in trying to kill him that day that I didn't think about you. He got innocent people killed… but if I hurt you then I'd be no better. I'm so sorry about how we met."

Soleil gave him a faint smile. "Well… thank you for the money, and thanks again for saving us. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you give us nicknames?"

"I give everyone nicknames. Chrom was Blue. Lissa was Princess because, uh… you know. Olivia was uh… Babe. Yeesh. Never thought I'd have to tell her granddaughter that."

"What was Cordelia's?"

"Uh… did I not give her one?"

The four turned when they noticed several armed Arch Surg soldiers approaching them. The soldiers were armed with long pikes, and they were lead by Pheros. She reared her horse up in front of Gaius and her soldiers formed behind her. "Gaius! Ophelia! Soleil! Caeldori!" She yelled. "Is that correct?"

Soleil slowly reached for her sword. "Err, yes?"

"By order of the Justicar, you are hereby being detained."

Gaius lowered his goggles. "And what does that mean?"

"It means that you are not permitted to leave this settlement. Failure to comply will lead to repercussions."

"I want to talk to this Justicar!"

Pheros nodded. "The Justicar will likely want to talk to you. Follow me."

* * *

Mercer and Cordelia, who was once again wearing her blindfold, eventually found Vasto and were escorted through the city, past the city square and Nowi's skeleton, and into a large stone citadel. The building towered over the rest of the city, but it wasn't located anywhere near the city's center as citadels usually were. It seemed to be a recent addition, and in fact most of it still looked like it was under construction. Mercer couldn't see workers actually building anything, but scaffolding surrounded much of the building, and many areas were blocked off. Only the main entryway seemed to be completed, and it was being used as the building's main office space. Vasto took Mercer and Cordelia to the entrance and then proceeded to stand guard in front of it. Mercer looked over to find Ophelia, Soleil, Caeldori, and Gaius already waiting, with Pheros standing over them. Mercer was glad to see them okay, but he couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with any of them. Instead he bowed his head and sheepishly stood behind Cordelia. She noticed, and she took his hand to reassure him.

Eventually Cervantes emerged from the building and walked up to Mercer. He looked him up and down as he straightened his posture. "Well, well. If it isn't the prince. Your friends told me much about you and what you've become, but I don't think we've properly been reintroduced yet."

"Cervantes." Mercer responded apprehensively.

"Don't be so nervous, my boy! We may have been foes once yes, but things have changed. The Fell Dragon is my enemy now. If you don't have six eyes and four wings, then you needn't fear my whiskers."

Mercer couldn't help but stare at Cervantes' beard. It was even longer than it used to be, and it was now stark white. "You… still haven't shaved."

"Ha! Of course not! Once I believed that my beard made me invincible, but alas this was proven false. However I was able to survive when everyone thought me killed. Therefore this beard makes me immortal. It's science, my boyo!"

"That doesn't sound very scientific."

Cervantes glared at Mercer, though his beard covered most of his face and made it difficult to tell his expression. "Oh kiss my crinkled, Valmese arse. Talk to me like that again and I'll beat the right piss out ya you bloody bogan, I swear on me mum."

The door behind Cervantes opened to reveal a tall, heavily armored, older man. The man's plate armor was very thick and consisted of multiple layers of armor, and it was colored dark gray and black with red trimming. The man also had a very pronounced collar that went around his head. The man didn't look any younger than seventy, but he stood up very straight and still looked very intimidating. "HAIL, CIVILIANS!" The man barked in a thundering voice. "THE JUSTICAR WILL SEE YOU NOW!"

Cervantes rubbed his finger in his ear. "Nngh! Not so loud, Farber! I'm standing right here."

Mercer did a double take back to the man. "Wait! Farber?! Are you… are you-"

"YES! We have met before, prince. I was a Valmese general in service to the IMMORTAL EMPEROR of the FIRST VALMESE EMPIRE! LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR! DEATH TO ALL WHO OPPOSE HIM!" Farber seemed to wince at his own words. "Calm down, calm down. That was the old Farber." He muttered to himself. "Err, sorry about that. The Justicar will see you now, Chrom."

"So you were the Valmese general at Valm Harbor? You survived and joined the Arch Surg?"

"The Grimleal call us that! You will refer to us by our proper name! We are the Archanean Liberation Front! Remember that name, worm, because we are the future of the human condition." Farber snapped. "I did survive our battle, and I joined Pheros and Cervantes' resistance against the Grimleal. I did not waste away as a drunken old man like you! You Shepherds were teenagers playing at war. I did not abandon the war when things turned against me like you did! I continue to fight for the future of humanity!"

Vasto stepped closer to Mercer. "Err, word of advice, Farber is really dedicated to the Justicar and the Arch Surg. Continuing this exchange won't go well for you. Just follow him in."

Mercer nodded. "Sorry. Just take me in."

Farber lead Mercer into the building, and Cervantes and Pheros followed him in. Cordelia also tried to enter, but Vasto blocked her. "Err, I'm sorry darling but you and the others will have to stay outside."

"What?! Well I'm not going anywhere."

"That's fine. You can stay right out here. The Justicar will probably want to see you five as well."

"So what are we going to do until then?" Soleil said as she and the others walked over. Vasto shrugged.

"How about I tell you some jokes?"

Soleil wasn't sure of what to make of that. "You're going to tell us jokes?"

"Sure! I have some good ones! So these three Pegasus Knights are in the woods, looking for bucks. They decide to split up, so one Pegasus Knight stays back while the other two wander further into the woods. Eventually one sees a rustling in a bush, so she throws her spear into it. Turns out her comrade was in the bush, and she falls over unmoving. The Pegasus Knight panics, so she goes back to her other companion."

Cordelia frowned. "I don't like where this is going."

"So she runs up to her and says 'Help! I think I may have accidentally killed our friend! She's not moving!' The other Pegasus Knight is calm. She says 'Okay before you do anything else, make sure she's actually dead.' The first Pegasus Knight runs back to her comrade, stabs her with her lance, and then runs back. Then she says 'Okay, now what?'"

Soleil broke out laughing, and everyone except Cordelia at least chuckled. Cordelia was less than amused. "Oh come on! That's offensive! You're trying to portray Pegasus Knights as dumb bimbos!"

"Well I'm sorry you don't have a sense of humor. There's nothing wrong with that. You're just like my friend. I tried to make him laugh, so I sent him a list of my ten best jokes but… no pun-in-ten-did!"

"Aah!" Soleil laughed. "No pun intended! I get it! This guy… this guy!"

"That's stupid." Cordelia responded. Vasto gave a cheeky grin.

"Well I'm sorry you're _blinded_ to my humor. I just don't think you _see_ what I'm trying to say, but if you'd just _visualize_ my jokes then you'd understand them."

"Aah!" Soleil said as she playfully elbowed Cordelia. "Because you're blind? Get it? Get it? Geddit-geddit-geddit?"

"Ugh."

The building Mercer was taken into only had one room accessible, but it was a very large area. Mercer could see a figure in front of a large statue at the very end of the room, but he couldn't see any details until he was much closer. It was then that Mercer realized the figure was praying, but the statue didn't depict any god or deity. Instead it depicted the great hero of time. The crusader of Naga. The warrior from a doomed future. His own daughter. As Mercer looked down at the figure and recognized his dark blue outfit, he became increasingly horrified at the realization of who it was.

"I will to my lord be true and faithful." The figure chanted. "I will love all that she loved. I will shun all that she shunned. I will allow her to bless me and keep me. To be gracious to me, and shine her countenance upon me. In return I will be her tireless crusader. As she stood in preservation of all humanity, I will stand at the extremity of my exertion, come perdition or eradication, to honor her. I will take her sword. Her mask. Her struggle. I am become the princess of time." The man rose to his feet and turned to face Mercer, revealing a blue wig and a replica of Lucina's butterfly mask on his face. "Nothing beside remains."

Mercer's face twisted in frustration. "How the hell are you alive?!" He snarled.

"Lucina was able to survive in her time even as Risen killed almost everyone else in the world. How could I follow in her legacy if I allowed a handful of Tunnellers to kill me?"

"You're not following in her legacy!"

"I don't want to have this argument with you." Keith turned to Farber and Cervantes. "Leave us."

The two nodded and quietly left. Pheros stepped forward. "Am I needed, Justicar?"

"Our scouts have reported that the Grimleal is sending the 4th army from Regna Ferox to us."

"Are they heading right for us?"

"No, but they are getting close. It's possible they're trying to cut us off. I want you to take the city's entire garrison and ward them off. Civil patrol and Vasto's wyvern riders will be enough to keep order in the city."

"It will be done at once, Justicar." Pheros turned and left. At first Mercer thought he was alone with Keith, though he turned and saw several armed guards by the door he didn't notice earlier. Mercer was trembling with disgust as he turned back to Keith. The image of his slain daughter wasn't any less traumatic weeks later, and Keith's obsession with her was clearly far worse than he thought. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but it certainly didn't endear him to Keith.

"So this is where you were going to take us back in Veslil? This is your organization? This is how you had the resources to take Veslil from the Grimleal?"

"Yes."

"Did you get your mask back from the Tunnellers, or do you have spares."

"I pried it from their cold, dead hands… but I do have spares."

"Why Keith? Why just…" Mercer ran his hands through his hair. "WHY?!"

"She was a hero. She is an inspiration to humanity."

"But that doesn't mean you can do this! You can't dress like her as if… as if you were some kind of ghost! I can't… you're killing me!"

"Would it help if I took off the wig?" Keith removed his wig, but Mercer didn't change his expression.

"And the mask."

"The mask _stays_."

"Would it be so bad if you took off that mask?"

"It would be very painful."

"You look like a tough guy."

"For you."

Mercer paused. "Wait, what? For you? What do you mean by that? Are you finishing your other sentence? Are you saying it would be painful for me? Are you continuing off what I said? Are you saying you're a tough guy because of me? I'm confused at your wordplay there."

"Just… nevermind." Keith slowly approached Mercer. "I don't want to be enemies, Chrom."

"You kidnapped us! You kept us in a basement! You broke my knee!"

"I'm sorry. That was wrong of me." Keith's voice had a solemn inflection to it, but he otherwise didn't change much. Mercer realized that was as close as he would get to genuine remorse from Keith. "You need to meet my boss. I am justified in taking you to her. She needs to see you."

"Who is this woman? You said she knows me. You said she's seen me before."

"She asked that in her words I not 'Spoil the surprise.'"

"Can you tell me anything about her?"

Keith thought about it. "She was a Pegasus Knight. She once looked up to you."

"A Pegasus Knight?! How?!"

"I-I've said too much. You will be detained here until I receive further instruction from her."

"Will she come here?"

"I don't know, but you will see her. I guarantee it. I am sorry for what happened in Veslil. I won't throw you in a cell here. You are free to use the services this city has to offer, and I'll pay for it. Anything you want. That's also true of your companions."

"R-really?"

"Yes." Keith walked over to a side door. "There is one thing I want to show you before I let you go. Come with me."

Keith lead Mercer out into a courtyard. Standing up on wooden poles were several humanoid figures made from straw and cloth. Keith walked over to a table and took two small pistols from a box. He thrusted one into Mercer's hands. Mercer had no idea how to react to it. He still didn't have a firm grasp on what firearms were, or how they worked, and they terrified him. He didn't like the idea of being able to end a life with nothing more than a pull of a trigger. "W-what?! What is this?!"

"A handheld firearm." Keith said as he pulled back the hammer on his own pistol. "You're going to learn how to use it."

"What?! No!"

"Mercer, these are the future of warfare. Someday firearms will dominate the battlefield. Not everyone can use a sword, or a pike, or a bow, but anyone can use a pistol like this. The elderly, children, the sick, the crippled, the mentally perturbed, all are equally dangerous with a loaded gun in their hand."

Mercer didn't look back to Keith. He just gave his pistol a horrified look and shook his head. "No, no, no. I don't want anything else to do with this!"

"Shut up! It's just a weapon. Surely you were afraid of a sword when you first started training with it?"

"I-I guess."

"This is just a weapon. It's just a tool. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want it, Keith."

"Why not?"

"They're evil!" Mercer threw the pistol on the ground. Keith was visibly angered by it, and he took very deep breaths to prevent himself from snapping at Mercer. "The loud noises! The horrible smoke! Killing a man by just pulling a trigger?! It's not right! It's terrifying!"

"War changes, Mercer. Surely our ancestors were horrified when their enemies first came at them with metal weapons and armor. They had no choice but to adapt. Otherwise they wouldn't have lived to have descendants. Gunpowder weapons are the future. They'll only get more and more advanced. You need to be familiar with them."

"Why do you think that?"

"Common sense. It takes a lifetime to train someone to use a bow, and not everyone is fit enough to use a melee weapon effectively. Anyone can kill anyone else with a gun. Muscle. Fat. Height. Fitness. Experience. None of that saves you from a bullet. Even metal armor can be penetrated by firearms, though pistols can't do that reliably. Someday guns will bring an end to warfare. Someday they'll make guns that can wipe out a hundred men in the blink of an eye. When guns like that exist, wars won't be fought anymore. People will be too scared to wage war anymore."

Mercer looked directly at Keith. "Alternatively, wars will become more destructive than ever."

Keith shrugged. "Well I'm no futurologist, but guns are the future, Chrom. You need to be familiar with them."

"I prefer my sword."

"That's fine. I'm just saying you should have a pistol on you. You're getting old. The human body just wasn't meant to live that long. Nature just wants you to live long enough to fuck, and to see your kids fuck. Nothing else matters. Your body will give out on you one day. Do you want to be there for Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori for the rest of your life, or do you want to die on your back with a far younger man or woman standing over you, about to hack you apart? Having a gun could be the difference between life and death."

Mercer didn't have an effective response to that. "If I learn to use this pistol, you'll leave me alone?"

"If that's what you want."

"Fine."

Keith nodded and held out his pistol. "Now when you're aiming a pistol, you get a good look at your target and then bring the gun up to where you're looking. Take time to adjust your aim, but don't take too long or your hand will get tired and the gun will wobble. Steady it with your other hand if you need to, but don't put your other hand too close to the barrel." Keith turned to one of the figures, about five meters away from him, and fired his pistol. Mercer reflexively turned away at the sharp crack, and when he looked back he saw a hole dead center in the figure's forehead. "Now your turn."

"Umm, alright." Mercer picked up his gun and pulled back the hammer as Keith did. He pointed it at another figure, his gun waving wildly in his hand.

"No! You won't hit anything like that!" Mercer panicked and pulled the trigger. A rather undignified noise emanated from him as it went off. Keith shook his head. "Awful."

"I-I can't! The horrible noise! The explosion in my hand! It's horrifying!"

"You'll get used to it."

Mercer tried aiming again, and when he was ready he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. "Oh right. I forgot to pull back the hammer."

Keith groaned. "No. You forgot to load it."

"Oh. Yeah. I was wondering how that worked."

"Follow me." Keith lead Mercer to the table and pulled out supplies for guns. "Now you'll need to know how to reload a firearm. This pistol is a flintlock pistol, so you need to make sure it has flint in the cock."

"The cock?"

"The hammer. It means the hammer. Also the hammer has to be pulled back to half cock to reload the gun. It won't work otherwise." Keith poured gunpowder from a flask into a measure and then poured it into the barrel of his pistol. "Now ideally you pour gunpowder from a measure. If you pour it right from the flask then you might use too much."

"What is that sand for?"

"It's gunpowder. It creates the explosion that propels the bullet out of the barrel. Now you put the bullet itself into the barrel. Wrap your bullet in thin cloth or paper, and then insert it into the barrel. It should make a nice, tight fit."

"Then how do you force it down the barrel?"

"Your ramrod. The bullet won't fire unless you ram it into the back of the barrel, so you use this to force it in there." Keith used his ramrod to force the bullet down into the barrel. Then he inserted it back into the pistol. "Now you always put the ramrod back before you do anything else. Your gun is worthless without the ramrod. Now you pour a small amount of gunpowder into the pan, the metal part on the side of the gun. Now snap the frizzen over the pan like this." Keith finished loading the pistol and pulled the hammer back. "Now pull the hammer back to full cock. It's ready to fire."

"That seems complicated."

"You'll get used to it."

"I don't understand. You don't even use guns! Why are you so obsessed with them?!"

"I don't use them because Lucina didn't use them, but I still know how to use them." Keith turned and fired on the figure again. Mercer flinched, and when he looked back he saw another hole in the figure's head. "Now you try reloading yours."

Mercer took the flask of gunpowder and poured it into the barrel of his pistol. Keith slapped his hand, seized the gun, and poured it out. "You're using too much! Do you want it to take off your hand when you fire it?! Use the measure!"

"Right."

"And your pistol needs to be at half cock."

"Right." Mercer poured the gunpowder into the measure. He pulled the hammer back to half cock, and then poured the gunpowder into the barrel. He then placed the bullet into the barrel without wrapping it, and Keith didn't react fast enough to stop him.

"You didn't wrap it!"

"Is it broken?"

"It won't fire well."

Mercer dumped out the bullet, though the gunpowder went with it. Mercer took deep breaths to contain his frustration and panic, but Keith was surprisingly patient with him. Mercer poured gunpowder into the barrel again, and then wrapped a bullet in cloth and placed it into the barrel. He then used his ramrod to force it down the barrel before placing it back on the table. Keith slapped his hand again. "No! Put it back in the gun!"

"Why?!"

"A gun is worthless without a ramrod! Always put it back!" Mercer put the ramrod into the gun. He held it up, but Keith took it and finished loading it. "You forgot to pour gunpowder into the pan and snap the frizzen over the pan."

"Right."

Keith pulled back the hammer and handed it to Mercer. "It's ready to fire now." Mercer took the pistol and held it out towards Keith. He darted to the side. "Woah! Watch where you point it!"

"Sorry."

"Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire it."

"Right."

Mercer aimed the pistol and fired at a figure. He managed to not turn away as it went off, but it still shook wildly in his hand. He didn't manage to hit the figure at all. Keith nodded. "Well at least you managed to load it."

"I… I don't like this. I just… I don't feel comfortable. These weapons are horrifying."

Keith looked down. "You asked me why I like these weapons so much? Remember what I told you about my past?"

"You were a slave."

"Right. I had nothing. I didn't even have a right to my own body. I was helpless. Can you imagine that? Complete helplessness?"

"No." Mercer said in a soft tone. "I couldn't."

"There was nothing I could do. We like to think ourselves a civilized race, Mercer, but our society is built on strength and violence. The strong dominate the weak. We can pretend that things are better than that, but look around. Look at how the world works. People are oppressed, tortured, brutalized, because people think they can get away with it. Even laws only work if they can be enforced. Guns are the great equalizers. Anyone can matter with a gun. Anyone can defend themselves. Guns will bring an end to the tyranny of strength."

"Won't they just usher in a new kind of tyranny?"

Keith shrugged. "Well then we'd better make sure everyone has one. Come here." Keith went to the end of the table and pulled out another box. He opened it up to reveal a double barreled flintlock pistol. It was plated with blue and silver, and elaborate engravings depicting symbols of the Ylissean monarchy, including the Mark of Naga, covered it. Mercer stared at it as Keith handed it to him.

"What… what is this?"

"Do you remember the assassin who shot you in Veslil? I had his pistols recovered. I personalized them so that I could use them, but I think you should have one. Take it."

Mercer slowly picked up the firearm. It was much heavier than the other pistol, and it brought back unpleasant memories of what happened in Veslil. "Keith I… I don't feel comfortable with this. This is the gun that shot me? The gun that shot Ophelia, and Soleil?"

"You're doing this for them, Chrom. This might save your life. You want to be there for them don't you? You might need this one day."

Mercer sighed. "I guess."

"Come on. Test it out." Mercer walked back to the table and loaded it. Each barrel had to be loaded separately, and Keith snapped at Mercer again when he forgot to put the ramrod back in the pistol, but Mercer otherwise loaded the gun skillfully. He then turned and aimed at a figure. He pulled a trigger, and the left barrel went off. Mercer missed again, and he let his arm fall to his side.

"It's heavy."

"Don't take so long to aim. Also remember that the barrels are off center, and adjust your aim accordingly."

Mercer remembered what Keith told him and looked at the target before raising his pistol towards it. He took a deep breath and fired the second trigger. The bullet struck the very side of the figure. "I-I hit it."

Keith gave a faint smile. "You're doing better." Keith drew what had been Theresa's other pistol, customized just like Mercer's pistol, and unloaded both barrels into another figure. The bullets both hit the figure where the heart would be. "You'll get better."

"Can I go now?"

"Yes, Mercer. You can return to your companions now. Please keep that pistol. You never know when you might need it."

Mercer still wasn't sure how to feel about it, but Keith had made some valid points. There may come a time where his body would let him down. It couldn't hurt to keep it on him. "Alright. Thank you… Keith."

"Remember what I told you. You can't leave this settlement."

Mercer's expression soured. "Right."

Mercer left the building to find Ophelia, Soleil, Caeldori, Gaius, and Cordelia still listening to Vasto. Everyone except Cordelia was fixated on what he was saying. "So then the king says to Marth, 'Thank you for saving our kingdom. Altea is lucky to have such a strong princess.' Marth looks at him and says 'Princess? But I'm a man?' The king looks him up and down and says, 'You could have fooled me.'"

Everyone except Cordelia laughed, and Soleil lightly jabbed her in the stomach with her elbow. "Aah! Get it? Because he had a tiara and a short skirt and was effeminate looking in general?"

"Stop explaining every joke, Soleil! The Hero King was not effeminate."

"He wore a short skirt with no pants underneath." Vasto said.

"He wasn't effeminate!"

"I always wondered why Pegasus Knights wore short skirts. Is it because of him? Does that make you all cross dressers?"

"No!"

"Then he was effeminate."

"Say one more word about the Hero King and you can tell your friends what it's like to have a blind woman kicking your rear!" The group turned as Mercer approached. Mercer didn't know how to explain his pistol, so he tucked it away behind him. Cordelia ran up to him and embraced him. "Mercer! You're okay!"

"Yes, Cordelia. I'm fine."

"I missed you, baby." Mercer stared blankly into space, and Cordelia somehow knew something was bothering him. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like what the world has become. It's changing. So much. I don't like what humanity is becoming." Mercer said in a grim tone. Cordelia looked confused, but she still gave Mercer a reassuring look.

"None of us like what's happening to the world. That's why we're fighting to change it."

"I don't like what I'm becoming, Cordelia. Everyone I have ever loved is gone now."

"I'm not." Mercer smiled and the two embraced. Mercer whispered in Cordelia's ear.

"I miss the people we used to be."

"So do I. So do I. I'm here for you now though. I'll never leave you alone. I promise."

Mercer smiled and held Cordelia tightly. It was a peaceful moment for him, until he glanced up and saw Soleil shooting daggers at him. Ophelia and Caeldori nudged her, trying to get her to look away, but Soleil wouldn't let her feelings be hidden. "Soleil stop staring like that." Ophelia whispered to her. Soleil shook her head and turned to Ophelia.

"No! I know you feel the way I feel! She's abandoned us for that old bastard! We never should have taken him to her!"

Soleil's voice was louder than Ophelia's, but she was still whispering. Cordelia managed to hear her though, and she turned and confronted Soleil. "What did you just say?"

Soleil walked towards her, and everyone else took several steps back. "I'm not taking it back! You're supposed to be helping us, but you turn into a lecherous teenager around him! You've abandoned us!"

"Soleil stop!" Ophelia cried.

"No! She needs to hear this!" Soleil got very close to Cordelia, so that Cordelia would be threatened even without being able to see her. "You've abandoned us. You've abandoned the future! For that old man! We need you! Not him!"

"You've been avoiding me!"

"You think we want to see you with him! He deserves to be left to rot!" Cordelia stepped towards Soleil, to the point where the two women were almost touching. Everyone prepared for the worst, and Soleil trembled with rage and prepared to defend herself. Cordelia lunged at her, but she didn't strike her or yell at her. Instead she just wrapped her arms around Soleil and hugged her as tightly as she had hugged Mercer. Soleil was completely disarmed, and she couldn't bring herself to do anything but breathe heavily. "Cordelia?! What are you doing?!" She finally managed to ask.

"Oh, Soleil." Cordelia stopped hugging Soleil and looked directly at her. "That's not true at all. I'm not just doing this because I care about him. I'm doing it because I love you."

"W-what?"

"You need a leader. Mercer can help you. He can help the world. I know you don't want to be around him now, but you'll feel differently later. He can be there for you. If I can help him, then he can help you."

Soleil looked down. "I HATE HIM! He killed my father!"

"That's not true. You don't hate him. You hate the world for what it's become, and you hate the Grimleal, and you're taking it out on him. It wasn't his fault, and he's sorry for what happened. He does care about you. He'd do anything to make it up to you." When Soleil looked back up at Cordelia, there were tears in her eyes. "Soleil, I know I was hard on you when we were training, and I'm sure I said things that were unfair, but I am proud of you. You girls go out there and fight for a better world. You're a very strong woman, as strong as anyone I've known. I am so proud of you."

Soleil hugged Cordelia back. "R-really?"

"Yes. I want Mercer to feel better because I love him, but also because I want him to help you. You three are like my daughters, and I love you too. I'd never abandon you. Never."

"I… I'm sorry about what I said."

"Don't be. You're entitled to your feelings. It's okay."

Ophelia slowly stepped forward. "Y-you're proud of me too, right?"

Cordelia smiled and hugged Ophelia too. "Of course. I'm sorry I don't know much about magic, Ophelia. I'm sorry I can't help you be a better mage. You have such potential. You'll become a great hero one day. I am so proud of you."

Cordelia smiled at Ophelia and then walked over to her granddaughter. Caeldori tried to stay stoic, though the moment had clearly moved her. "You don't have to tell me anything, grandmother."

"No. I don't. You already know how proud I am of you." Cordelia hugged Caeldori more tightly than anyone. "But you do need to know how much I love you. I'll never forget that day when your mother brought you to me. I've known you since you were a little girl. You're really like my daughter. You're a brilliant soldier, but that's not why I love you. You're family. I will always love you, and I'll always be here for you."

Caeldori's lip was quivering at this point, and her breathing was irregular, but she still tried to keep a straight face. Cordelia could tell that her granddaughter was trying not to show her feelings, and it only made her smile more. "Thank you, grandmother."

"And I am proud of you, baby. When I was a young woman, I worried about what Phila thought of me. I want you to know that you have become far more than I ever imagined you could be. I see within you the future of the Pegasus Knights. I couldn't have asked for a better granddaughter."

Caeldori briefly broke down, and she buried her face in Cordelia's shoulder. "Grandmother." She stuttered. Cordelia looked at her and rocked her back and forth.

"I love you. If your grandfather could see you, he'd be so proud. I'm sure your mother and father would also be proud of you, wherever they are."

Mercer himself was moved by the scene, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything when Cordelia returned to him. "I'll be at our quarters if you need me."

Mercer could only nod, and Cordelia walked back towards their quarters, using her lance as a walking stick. Soleil and Mercer's eyes briefly locked, and they both quickly looked away. Mercer forced himself to walk forwards, and Soleil moaned. "She's uh… she's right." Mercer said in very soft tone. "I would do anything to make it up to you three."

Soleil didn't look him in the eye. "I… I'm sorry, Mercer. I still don't feel comfortable being around you."

"Oh."

Soleil kicked her foot back and forth until the awkwardness became unbearable. "Well uh, I'd better go after Cordelia. Make sure she doesn't walk into a hungry wyvern or something."

"Yeah. I'll… I'll stay here."

Soleil, Caeldori, and Gaius left. Ophelia smiled at Mercer and placed her hand on his shoulder, but she then followed them. Mercer was left alone with Vasto. "So uh, you go by Mercer now?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure we've really met. There aren't… there aren't any hard feelings are there?"

"Huh?"

"I know we were enemies thirty years ago, but I want to help now."

"We're fine. I can't say I trust you people, but that's mainly because of Keith."

"The Justicar? Yeah, he is a nutcase. He's the son of the leader of the Arch Surg. That's why he's so high ranking."

"The boss? He's her son?"

"Adopted son."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know much about her. I know she was a Pegasus Knight, but I don't know anything else. We call her Archangel. I don't know her real name."

Mercer turned and looked around at the city. "Vasto."

"Yes?"

"Is there a barber around here?"

* * *

Cordelia and the others were hanging around the living quarters the group had been given, finding ways to pass the time. Everyone's head looked up at the sound of the door opening to see Mercer entering the building, and the sight made everyone freeze. Though the man was still recognizable as Mercer, he now looked very different. Gaius was especially surprised. "Blue? You look like you did thirty years ago!"

Cordelia perked her head up. "Hmm? What are you talking about?"

Ophelia turned to her. "Uh, his uh… he uh-"

Mercer smiled. "Don't spoil it, Ophelia." Mercer approached Cordelia as she stood up to greet him. She placed her hands on his chest and smiled.

"Where have you been?" Mercer gently took Cordelia's hands and brought them to his face. Cordelia's own face lit up as she caressed him. "Your… your beard?! It's gone!" Cordelia quickly brought her hands to his hair. "And you cut your hair! You look-"

"Like I used to?"

Cordelia gave him a silly grin. "Like the man I fell in love with."

"I'm done being a broken old man, Cordelia. You deserve better than that."

Mercer took off Cordelia's blindfold. Cordelia initially froze up, but Mercer kissed her nose to reassure her. She smiled again and carefully felt Mercer's face for several seconds. Eventually the two disappeared into the bedroom, giggling the whole time. Gaius and the girls stared blankly at them as they did, wondering if the two even remembered they were there.

"Well, I think that's a sign for us to leave." Gaius said as he rose to his feet. Ophelia quickly followed.

"I think you're right."

"Yeah." Caeldori responded. "I don't need to be here." Soleil didn't say anything. She looked intently at the bedroom door, and Caeldori turned back to her. "Are you… are you thinking about it?!"

"W-what? No! That would be… that would be weird. It's just… do you think the blindness makes it hotter? In a kinky way I can kind of see-" Caeldori grabbed Soleil's ear and pulled on it. "Gah! Alright. I'm going, I'm going."


	18. The Fall

Late at night, long after the sun had set on the settlement of Nowi Falls, Mercer lied in bed looking uneasily at Cordelia's arm, wrapped tightly around him. Cordelia herself was sound asleep, but Mercer was wide awake. He thought he was over the guilt that washed over him every time he looked at her, but it was all coming back to him now. Mercer maneuvered himself to face her. "Oh, Cordelia. What a strange relationship we've had. It fills me with guilt to know that it took the ruination of everything we fought for, and thirty years of thinking each other dead, for us to spend any real time together. You were so dedicated to our fight, to me, thirty years ago, and I couldn't give you the time of day. I took your service for granted. I just don't deserve your love now." Mercer gently kissed her on the cheek. "But I don't know where I'd be right now without it. I can't say anything good has happened to me since Tiki came to see me for the three hundredth time, my grandniece in tow. I didn't need to know that mad men like Keith existed, or that they had any power over others. I didn't need to see exactly what it's like to live under the Grimleal. I didn't need to see so many people still fighting, while I wasted away. I didn't need to know what guns were. I didn't need to see my baby turned into a weapon, and I didn't need to realize that probably happened to all the infants. I can't say anything that's happened to me over these past few weeks has been good for me… except for you. Especially with the girls feeling the way they do about me, I'm not sure I could go on without you by my side now. I can't… I can't say I wished things were different back then. I loved my wife and my children, and I wouldn't change that. But I do wish we had been closer. You cared so much for me. You deserved far more from me. I'm so happy you're here for me now. I never knew I wanted this, but now I couldn't live without you. I love you. So much." Mercer kissed Cordelia on the cheek again, and then carefully climbed out from underneath her arm. He dressed himself, and even took the Falchion with him, before turning back to Cordelia. "I'm going for a walk."

Mercer walked aimlessly through the streets of Nowi Falls. The city's major streets were illuminated by large kerosene lamps hung from poles. Even late at night the city was still alive. A few merchants went about tending to their stalls, rearranging merchandise and meeting with suppliers. Soldiers patrolled down the city streets, and a few off duty ones were clearly returning from bars. None of the soldiers were very well armed or armored, and Mercer remembered that Keith had sent Pheros away with the city's garrison. The civil patrol troopers left behind didn't take their jobs very seriously. A number of them were sleeping in full armor right on the streets. Mercer even saw a handful of children playing a game with a ball at one point. Following the streets lit by the lamps, while also avoiding Nowi's skeleton in the city square, eventually lead Mercer to the city's walls. Mercer wasn't conscious when the group flew into the settlement, and he hadn't been this far from the city center before, so he never realized the city even had walls. Mercer glanced over to see an entrance leading into one of the battlemented towers, and no civil patrol troopers were guarding it. With a shrug, Mercer wandered inside.

When Mercer reached the top of the walls, he saw nothing but an endless expanse of desert surrounding the city on all sides. Mercer couldn't see far in the darkness, but he could make out rolling sand dunes against the starry night sky going back at least several kilometers. These sand dunes were in every direction Mercer could see, and while glancing around Mercer found a man also starring out into the desert. The man turned his head, and briefly panicked at the sight of him. "Gah! HEY! YOU THERE!"

Mercer recognized Vasto's voice, and he walked over to him. Vasto calmed down when he saw who he was. "Oh! It's you. How did you get up here?!"

"There weren't any guards blocking the entrance. Am I not supposed to be up here?"

Vasto sighed. "Idiots. I'm the only one here who takes my job seriously besides Pheros and Farber. Farber is always with the Justicar, and Pheros is away, so I'm surrounded by worthless civil patrol troopers." Vasto looked up at Mercer. "No! You're not supposed to be up here! You know you can't leave the city right?"

"I wasn't trying to. I was just out for a walk."

"Oh. Okay." Vasto looked back out over the desert. "Pretty isn't it? Especially at night."

"Where are we?"

"We're in the Border Sands."

"We're that far west?! How did Cordelia and Gaius get all the way to the border between Plegia and Ferox with us in such critical condition?"

"No. We're not that far west. I know the Border Sands used to be on the Border between Plegia and Ferox, but the desert has grown since then. We're still in Ylisse. That's how far east the desert has expanded." Vasto shrugged. "Of course the old borders don't matter anymore. The Grimleal took over the whole world."

Mercer was horrified at what he was hearing. The land he was in right now had apparently been fertile once. How many people were forced to move when the desert grew? "I don't understand. How can a desert grow?"

"Desertification. Land becomes more arid, and land around a desert will be absorbed into the desert."

"How is that possible?"

"Without plants, the whole world would be a desert. Soil allows plants to grow, and in turn plants keep soil in place with their roots. Without any plants to keep the soil in place, it'll get worn away by erosion. When the Fell Dragon took over, it unleashed some kind of blight upon the world. Large plants died, and soil was worn away."

"But deserts are dry, right? How can a desert spread to a place with rain?"

"Water doesn't stop desertification. Only soil does. Without soil to absorb water, it'll just end up in an underground aquifer or it'll evaporate right back into the air. You can pour water on a rock all you want. A plant won't grow out of thin air. Without soil there's nothing to stop deserts from growing. Even a rainy area can become inhospitable. The rain might keep it from becoming a desert, but the land could still turn into badlands. In fact rain washes away soil, so without plants to keep the soil in place, an area that gets a lot of rain will have all regolith washed away. It'll just be rock. That's all the world will be in a few centuries. Sand and rock."

"So the land we're in right now was once fertile?"

"Yes. Now it's just sand. Sand and more sand. Sand stays. Everything else changes."

"How could humanity survive in a world like that?"

"Don't know. Don't want to think about it."

"How do you know so much about this?"

"Ma wanted me to be an academic. She spent her savings on tutors. In the end I joined the military. I thought it'd be a grand adventure. I wasn't wrong. There was an adventure going on back then, but I was on the wrong side of it."

Mercer didn't have anything else to add, so he just went back to staring at the desert. Vasto eventually picked up a bowl by his feet and started eating from it. Mercer looked over and realized it was a bowl of frumenty. "Why are you eating frumenty in the middle of the night?"

"It's a treat."

"How is frumenty a treat?"

"It is when you whiskey it up a little." Vasto pulled out a flask. "You want some?"

"I, uh… I really shouldn't drink anymore."

"Suit yourself." Vasto poured some whiskey into his frumenty, and then took a sip from the flask itself. "I'm going to take advantage of the alcohol this city has to offer. I hear they only have kumis in some other cities."

"Yeah." Mercer responded. "I've heard that too. You know what… I'll take some." Vasto handed Mercer his flask, and Mercer took a quick sip. The whiskey fought him on the way down, and he had to repress the urge to spit it back up, but that only made him want more of it. Mercer took another long sip. "Oh gods that's good."

"Yeah. The Arch Surg imported plants at great expense here. The plants we grow have gone extinct in other parts of the continent. It lets us feed our soldiers a nutritious diet, and it gets us some decent booze. Why'd you start drinking, Mercer? Any particular reason?"

"To forget."

"Me too. It helped after my mother passed. We were very close."

"It's still painful for you all these years later?" Mercer asked as he handed the flask back.

"She died just last month."

"Last month?! How old was she?"

"She was a strong woman!" Vasto took another sip from his flask. "Here's to you, Ma! Your knitting was the best in Plegia!" Vasto turned to Mercer, who seemed deep in thought. "What about you? Did you have good relations with your mother?"

"I barely remember my parents. They died when I was little."

"Oh right. The Exalt before Emmeryn and his wife died early. Sorry… I honestly forget you're the Exalt. It's just that you're so different now."

"It doesn't exactly matter anymore."

"Yeah I guess." Vasto and Mercer looked out over the desert for some time before Vasto spoke up again. "Hey you want to hear a joke?"

"Uh-"

"So these two mental patients escape from their asylum. They climb onto the roof, but they realize that the roof next to them is too far away for them to jump to. One of them holds out a lamp and says 'I've got an idea. I'll shine a beam of light from my lamp, and you can just walk across it!' The other patient says 'That's insane! That doesn't make any sense! You'd just turn it off when I'm only halfway across!'"

"I'm… I'm not sure I get it."

"Well because they're crazy? The second patient is more paranoid than rational? He's more worried about the other guy turning the lamp off than his ability to walk on a beam of light? It's because he's not thinking rationally?" Vasto looked eagerly at Mercer, but he just looked confused. Vasto sighed. "Ah whatever. I know you're not supposed to explain the joke. That's what Henry always said."

"Henry?"

"Yes. Your Henry. I knew him during the war. Heh. It's funny. That man could wipe out an entire village without a second thought, and he got to be a big hero with the Shepherds. More reasonable Plegian commanders like me get the piss beat out of us. Life's real fair."

"Well I'm sorry Vasto, but you were trying to kill Emmeryn."

"Targeting the enemy leader is a valid way to end a war." Vasto looked at Mercer sympathetically. "But I am sorry. That war wasn't justified. Now I want to help save humanity from the Grimleal. I'm a different person now, Chrom."

"Everyone is."

Vasto and Mercer didn't say anything else for several minutes, but eventually Vasto broke the silence again. "Want to hear another joke?"

"Sure."

"So these three Pegasus Knights are in the woods-"

Vasto's joke was interrupted by an ear rupturing blast that thundered outwards from the other side of the city. It sounded like an explosion similar to the one at Cordelia's homestead, but it was far louder. Mercer could hear a ringing in his ears for several minutes afterwards, and he felt the walls themselves shake. Vasto quickly gobbled his frumenty and ran off. "Oh yeesh! I need to see the Justicar!"

"What about me?"

"I don't know? Just be careful!" Mercer watched as Vasto ran into a tower, and a minute later a wyvern took off towards the city's citadel. Mercer looked back to the other end of the city. Even against the blackness of the night sky, he could see the pillar of smoke rising into the air.

"Oh no. Cordelia. Girls. Please be alright!" Mercer quickly sprinted back the way he came.

* * *

The girls were sound asleep when the blast shook the city, and only Caeldori was awakened by it. She immediately shot out of bed and maneuvered through the sleeping quarters the girls had been granted after Cordelia and Mercer practically annexed their original accommodations. Caeldori made her way to Soleil's bed, and she groaned to find that Soleil had somehow slept through the noise. "Soleil! Wake up! Something's wrong!"

Soleil smiled and spoke in her sleep. "Mmm. Sure Caeldori. I'll judge a kissing contest. I'm sure you're better than Ophelia."

"What are you dreaming about?" Caeldori elbowed Soleil, almost shoving her out of bed. "SOLEIL!"

"Gah! Wh-what? What?!"

"I heard a noise!"

Soleil closed her eyes and ran her hands through her disheveled hair. "Ooh, ugh. What time is it? You woke me up because of a noise?"

"It was a loud noise!"

"It was just a monster coming to eat you. Nothing to be afraid of."

"Damnit I don't have time for your snark, and I don't have time to explain this! Get dressed! Something is happening to the city!"

"Something will happen to you if you don't let me get back in bed." Caeldori was already out of the room before Soleil could finish. She darted into Ophelia's room to find her also talking in her sleep.

"Mmm. N-no! Mercer stop! That's… that's my apple cobbler. I paid for it with my money."

Caeldori shook her. "Ophelia! Get up!"

Ophelia shot up, but then sank back into her bed when she saw who woke her. "Caeldori? Is… is this another one of your drills?"

"Get up! Now! I think there's something dangerous going on in the city. We need to be ready to move."

"What proof do you have?" Before Caeldori could say anything, a short, gray, wiry creature forced its way through the wall and shrieked at the two. Caeldori only saw it as a humanoid monster of some kind, but Ophelia knew exactly what it was. "GAAH! Tunneller!"

"What?"

Ophelia panicked and tried running, to the point of climbing over Caeldori and almost knocking her over. The Tunneller jumped at her, caught her leg, and threw her through the hole it had created. It turned as Soleil entered the room and flung a nearby chair at her. The chair struck Soleil in the head and knocked her to the floor, but Caeldori jumped on its back and wrapped her arms around its neck. Though Tunnellers were much stronger than humans, they still had the same form. That gave them the same weakness. Caeldori wrenched the Tunneller's neck out of place, and it died as easily as a human would have. She then quickly rushed to Ophelia's aid to find that she was paralyzed in fear as another Tunneller stood in front of her in the alleyway she'd been thrown into. The Tunneller was too busy tearing apart a stray dog to notice Ophelia, but Ophelia refused to budge. She was trembling and in shock. Caeldori ran through the house and found Ophelia's tome on a table. She tossed it towards Ophelia, and she mustered the strength to blast the Tunneller as it turned to her. She then got up and embraced Caeldori, shivering horribly. "Oh gods! Don't let them take me!"

"You called that thing a Tunneller? What is that?"

"They're monsters!"

Soleil walked into the room, holding her head. "We're all going to die! There are so many things I didn't get to do! There are so many people I won't get to see again!"

"Quiet! This is what we were trained for!"

"You're crazy! Cordelia and Tiki did not train us to fight man eating monsters!" Soleil shook her head. "They're coming out of the walls! They're coming out of the goddamn walls! Game over, man! Game over!"

"STOP! Both of you!" Caeldori snapped. "We are not going to die here! Get dressed, and get your weapons! Now!"

The three girls quickly equipped their weapons and attires and ran out of their quarters to hear screaming and inhuman howling echoing down the streets. They walked down the narrow alley until they reached the street. The three were frozen in morbid shock at the sight. Dozens of terrified civilians desperately fled in all directions as about a dozen Tunnellers descended on them. They tore apart anyone caught in the street, but the people in buildings weren't saved either. The Tunnellers broke in through the windows, or even through the walls, and dragged them out. The Tunnellers killed brutally and efficiently, tearing off body parts and limbs through their raw strength and leaving people to bleed to death or die from shock. The Tunnellers were also ravenous, and they took massive bites out of their victims as soon as they had killed them. Occasionally they didn't even wait for the victim to die. The Tunnellers also quickly lost interest in slain prey, and they would almost immediately move on from their kills towards fresh targets. Within three minutes they had killed several dozen people, leaving half eaten and dismembered bodies littering the streets. As soon as their last victim, a woman that had desperately gone back for her very young child, was dispatched, they turned their attention to the only humans left alive in the area. The three.

"Oh." Soleil groaned. She shoved Caeldori forwards and sprinted away. "Eat her first! EAT HER FIRST!" Ophelia panicked and followed her as Caeldori looked back.

"For the love of-" She quickly turned to face the Tunnellers as they shrieked and ran towards her. Caeldori used her hand to wrap the fingers of her prosthetic tightly around her lance, and then got a firm grip on it with that hand. "A Pegasus Knight is not afraid of anything! Come here, beasties!"

* * *

Mercer made his way through the city. Initially he moved at a brisk pace, but it eventually turned into a panicked sprint as more and more people ran by in terror, and as the screaming of frightened civilians throughout the city became louder and louder. Mercer finally made it back to his quarters, but Cordelia wasn't in the bed anymore. She wasn't anywhere. Mercer ran outside and circled the building. "Cordelia?! CORDELIA?! Please! Where are you?!" Mercer didn't find Cordelia, but he did find a man being tackled by some kind of gray humanoid creature. Mercer reacted before he even realized what it was. All that mattered to him was that a man needed his help, and so he defended him without even thinking. He did freeze up in horror as he looked down at the creature he had felled. It was exactly like the creatures that had attacked Veslil. "Oh gods."

"Thank you! Oh, thank you sir!" The man cried as he brought himself to his feet. "I can't believe it! Cervantes and the Justicar said this city was safe from Tunnellers! They lied to us!"

Mercer put his hand on the man's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Get out of here. Now! Find somewhere safe!"

The man nodded and scurried off. Mercer ran towards where the man had been to find several abandoned merchant stalls. The owners had apparently defended themselves before fleeing, as dead Tunnellers surrounded the stalls, but one didn't make it. It was a very young woman. The same woman that had tried to sell Mercer what she called dragonscale armor. Mercer opened her stall and looked inside, and sure enough the armor was still there. "Oh gods. If this city is being attacked by Tunnellers, I'll need any help I can get. I have to find the girls. I have to find Cordelia." Mercer reached in and grabbed the armor. "If this armor is as good as she said, it could help me save them." Mercer sighed as he began to put it on. "Oh gods. Forgive me Nowi."

Mercer put on the armor and looked down at it. The armor was bulky, but it was fairly light. It was much lighter than steel or chain mail armor would have been. The armor was a shimmering yellow and green, and it looked just like Nowi did in her dragon form. It almost made Mercer want to vomit. "Oh gods." He muttered in a broken tone. "This is so messed up. This armor better be worth it to justify wearing a fallen comrade." Mercer turned and began to make his way through the city streets again. It wasn't long before a Tunneller snuck up behind him. With only a brief shriek to warn Mercer, the Tunneller leapt at him and slashed him across the back. Tunnellers were so strong that the attack would have torn Mercer in half without any armor, but the dragonscale armor protected him from any harm. He was forced forwards by the kinetic energy, but he was otherwise fine. He turned and struck down the Tunneller with his Falchion, and the armor didn't impede his movements at all. "Woah! I don't like wearing this, but I might need it."

Mercer continued to furiously navigate the city streets in an attempt to find groups of people, hoping that Cordelia or the girls would be with them. In a way he got his wish, but it wasn't for the better. As Mercer entered the city square, the same place where Nowi's skeleton was, he saw a massive pile of bodies created by the Tunnellers. It was similar to what the Tunnellers had done to their victims at Veslil, but smaller, and many of the bodies still had skin on them. Dozens of Tunnellers crawled around the pile of bodies, picking at them randomly. Each bite stripped away a large amount of flesh, and a Tunneller could strip a body to the bone in less than a minute. It was no wonder the people of Veslil had died so quickly, and it didn't look like Nowi Falls would fare better. The explosion that seemed to start the attack couldn't have happened more than ten minutes prior, yet at least two hundred people were in that body pile. The Tunnellers dragged more bodies to it every minute. Mercer had never seen something so traumatic in his life, but he didn't break. At any other time Mercer would have shut down completely, but saving the girls and Cordelia was too important now. The thought of anything happening to them filled Mercer with fear, but he used that to give himself strength. He never even thought of his own safety. All that mattered was stopping the Tunnellers. "GAAHHH!" Mercer roared at the Tunnellers without necessarily meaning to. "You monsters aren't going to kill anyone else today!"

Several dozen Tunnellers all perked their heads up and answered Mercer's challenge with shrieks. Ignoring all the bodies they had already gathered, every single Tunneller charged at him. He charged right back.

* * *

Caeldori, Soleil, and Ophelia were themselves surrounded by fallen Tunnellers. By now the three had dispatched the Tunnellers they'd originally found, and even held their own against dozens more as they ran towards the noise. Caeldori ran at a Tunneller and stabbed it with her lance. "I'd run if I were you!" She yelled as she drove the lance into it. The Tunneller tried to struggle free, but Ophelia came up behind it.

"Take this maiden seriously!" She roared as she blasted the Tunneller with her tome. The Tunneller's head was frozen solid, and Soleil ran at it with her sword.

"Smile! You're dead." She said in a cheery tone as she slashed the Tunneller's still frozen head into the air. With that, the last Tunneller finally fell, and the girls could pause to catch their breath. "Is it… is it over?"

"I think so." Caeldori responded. "Thank you two for fighting by my side."

"No problem. Sorry for… you know… abandoning you… at first."

"It's alright." Caeldori said as she pulled her lance out of the Tunneller's body and walked around the area. "Now we just need to find the Archanean Liberation Front leadership. We can help coordinate a defense."

"What about Cordelia? Or Mercer?" Soleil said in a worried tone as she ran up to Caeldori.

"I'm sure they can take care of themselves. Right now we need to control this situation."

Soleil looked like she wanted to argue, but before she could a lightning bolt struck her and arced into Caeldori. Ophelia ducked behind a building and poked her head out to see two Inquisitors surround the two. She didn't mean to hide, but she found herself unable to face them directly. Once more she was paralyzed by fear, and she only watched as the Inquisitors started to bind Soleil's hands behind her back. Caeldori recovered from the attack and was able to rise to her feet, but the Inquisitors backed away from her. Ophelia quickly saw why.

"Well, well." An armored man said as he approached Caeldori and Soleil. The man had two prosthetic arms. One ended in an armored gauntlet, and the other ended in a long serrated blade. The man also covered his face with a mask that resembled a skull. "If it isn't the one that organized the Rockpile prison riot."

"You." Caeldori snarled. She charged at Courtney with her lance, but with her injuries she wasn't able to move very quickly. Courtney easily caught her attack.

"That was weak sauce, girl! Don't enter that sauce in the fair, because that was weak." Courtney countered by striking Caeldori in the head with his gauntlet, sending her to the ground. The Inquisitors immediately moved to bind her too. "Ha! This is too easy! We got two of the young ones, and the older Pegasus Knight!"

Ophelia covered her mouth in shock. "Cordelia!" She whispered.

"What should we do now, sir?" One of the Inquisitors asked.

"Take them back to the staging area."

Ophelia watched in horror as Courtney and the Inquisitors dragged Caeldori and Soleil away, and she sprinted away in the other direction. Ophelia didn't have any real destination in mind. She just followed the city streets until they took her to the square. There she found a sight both reassuring and horrifying. Mercer, covered in a strange yellow and green armor, was furiously fighting against several Tunnellers. Dozens of slain Tunnellers surrounded him on all sides, but the survivors continued to press their attack. Mercer hacked away, responding to every shriek from a Tunneller with a roar of his own. The Tunnellers got a lot of hits on him, but he was somehow able to shrug them off. When Mercer finally felled the final Tunneller, his armor was cracked and falling apart, and Mercer was covered in blood and bruises, but he stood tall. After looking around to make sure the Tunnellers were defeated, Mercer unleashed a primal, caveman esque howl that seemed to be directed at the whole city. Only afterwards did he turn to see Ophelia, and a combination of relief and embarrassment took his face. "Ophelia!"

"Chrom! I mean, I mean… Mercer."

Mercer ran up to Ophelia and hugged her. "Oh gods, you're safe! I'm so sorry I wasn't there!"

"They have them, Mercer! Cordelia! Soleil and Caeldori! They took them!"

"Tunnellers?!"

"The Grimleal! They're in the city!"

Mercer and Ophelia turned to notice a man approaching them, and they both eased up when they saw it was Gaius. "Gods am I glad to see you two! Where is everyone else!"

"Gone!" Ophelia cried! "The Grimleal are in the city! They took them!"

Gaius looked to Mercer. "We have to go get them, Blue. We can't let the Grimleal torture them!"

"I know! I know." Mercer gave his grandniece a reassuring look. "I won't abandon them, Ophelia. I won't abandon any of you. We'll find them."

* * *

Courtney and the two Inquisitors with him made their way to the city's citadel, which was being used as a staging area. Two other Inquisitors were waiting for Courtney, and they stood at attention as Courtney brought Cordelia, Soleil, and Caeldori to them. Their hands were bound behind their backs. "Look what I found!" Courtney exclaimed. "One wench, two wench. Red wench, pink wench." Courtney kicked Soleil in the back as he said the last part. Soleil was knocked to the ground, and the two Inquisitors with Courtney forced Cordelia and Caeldori to their knees. One of the other Inquisitors took out a small book and quickly flipped through the pages.

"Let's see here. Soleil, ID # 3292. Caeldori, ID # 3286. Cordelia, ID # 0007. None of these individuals are priority targets. I'll begin executions." The Inquisitor, a tall pale skinned man with light brown hair, put away the small book and drew his sword. "In the name of the Fell Dragon-"

Courtney quickly stepped in front of the Inquisitor. "Knockitoff-knockitoff-knockitoff! We can use them to lure out the important ones. Keep them alive." Courtney knelt in front of Soleil. "Unless you know where your friends are?"

"We're not telling you anything!" Caeldori shouted. Soleil looked Courtney in the eye.

"We don't know where they are anyways!"

"Soleil, that counts as telling them something!"

"Quiet!" Courtney brought the blade on his prosthetic arm to Soleil's cheek, pressing against it until blood started to trickle from the tip. "You and your red haired friend pushed me off a mountain. You cost me two of my limbs! Maybe I should return the favor."

"Agh! I don't know anything!"

Courtney pressed harder. "This is only going to get worse for you!"

"I'm sorry." Cordelia said. The Inquisitor standing over her moved towards her with his sword drawn.

"Quiet! No one told you to speak!"

"Hold on!" Courtney got up and walked over to her. "What did you just say?"

"I'm sorry. It's partially my fault your life was so hard. I'm sorry the Shepherds didn't save you when you were a boy. I'm sorry I didn't save you." Courtney just stared at her, unsure of what to think. Cordelia looked up at him. "But surely there must be some part of you that sees that what you're doing is wrong."

Courtney gave a grim chuckle. "You think you're the heroes here? You think we're the bad guys?"

"You do have us tied up." Soleil retorted. "You did unleash Tunnellers on the city."

Courtney knelt down in front of Cordelia. "What you Shepherds never understood was that the Fell Dragon couldn't be defeated. By negotiating with it, Gangrel and Aversa saved humanity. Only by convincing the Fell Dragon that humanity would be loyal could we save our species. Everyone alive today, including you, is alive because Gangrel and Aversa negotiated our surrender. By fighting against the Grimleal like this, you risk ruining that. If all these resistance movements convince the Fell Dragon not to spare us anymore, than it will destroy us. You think you're trying to save the world, but you could doom us all!"

"But you don't have to be apologists! The Fell Dragon can be defeated!" Soleil yelled. Courtney walked over to her and struck her with his gauntlet.

"Quiet!" Courtney walked back to Cordelia. "Keeping humanity docile is the only way to save our race. By fighting back, you could get everyone killed." Courtney struck Cordelia in the face. "Not that you could ever save anyone."

"Grandmother!" Caeldori cried out. Courtney responded by striking her too.

"QUIET!"

"Courtney! Knock it off!" Courtney and the Inquisitors turned to find Kryczek walking towards them. He quickly brushed past them and looked at the three. "For Naga's sake! All three of these women are bloodied. Can't you treat the prisoners with some civility?"

"They deserve what they get and more." Courtney responded bitterly. "So what should we do with them after we lure out Chrom and Ophelia?"

Kryczek walked forward and inspected Soleil and Caeldori. He grabbed their heads and looked at their eyes, ears, and mouths. Both girls shot him bitter glares, but Kryczek didn't care. He acted like he was inspecting animals at a show. Kryczek then stood up and looked at Cordelia. "That one will be publicly executed. Her death will be a symbolic victory for the Grimleal." Kryczek looked back at Soleil and Caeldori. "These two will be taken back to Ylisstol. They're fine candidates for Reaver conditioning."

"Sir, yes sir!" Courtney declared. He turned back to the three as Kryczek walked away. "Good news, girls! Today you're terrorists, but tomorrow you'll be patriotic members of our army! I do love women in uniform."

"You know what I think?" Soleil said smiling. "I think you're scared. You know your control over the world is coming to an end. You know that we're a threat to you."

Without hesitation, Courtney walked over to Soleil and jabbed his blade into her chest. Caeldori screamed in horror, but Soleil herself could only make gagging and gurgling noises as Courtney drove the blade as deep as he could. "Run your mouth with a punctured lung, dyke." Courtney withdrew his blade, and Soleil fell over gasping and sputtering. Caeldori screamed for her, but Courtney went over to her and wiped the flat part of his blade across her face, smearing some of Soleil's blood on her. "I SAID BE QUIET!" Caeldori gagged in disgust, and Courtney looked over to see Kryczek leering at him.

"Courtney!"

"What?! She can still be a Reaver with only one lung!"

Kryczek shook his head and walked away, and Courtney turned to the Inquisitor with his sword drawn. "You! Stand over the girls. Do something nasty to them if they speak up again." Courtney turned to another Inquisitor, a very thin woman with lilac hair. "You! Call the surviving Tunnellers to our position. I might need them."

Meanwhile, Mercer and Ophelia hid in an alleyway until Gaius returned to them. There was a very worried expression on his face when he lifted up his goggles, which had all the lenses down over his eyes. "They're near the citadel, just like you said they might be."

"Are the girls with them?"

Gaius gave Mercer a solemn look. "They have Cordelia." Gaius turned to a nervous Ophelia. "And your friends. They're bound, and Soleil looks injured. I think they're waiting for us. I think they're keeping them because they know you'll go after them."

"They want you, Mercer." Ophelia realized. "It's a trap. They're trying to draw you out."

"We can't just abandon them!"

"But you'll be walking into their trap!"

"Not if we're aware of it." Mercer looked back to Gaius. "Could we surround them?"

"Easily. They're exposed on all sides, but they have those three very close to them. They'll kill them if we try anything."

"Maybe I can get them to lower their guard. Just… just wait for my signal."

"What signal?" Ophelia asked. Mercer took out the double barreled pistol Keith had given to him. In the heat of battle Mercer had forgotten about it, but the Tunnellers had caused considerable damage to Mercer's armor. He was also injured and tired. He realized it was possible that he would be forced to use it. Gaius and Ophelia both stared at it. "W-where did you get that?!"

"We don't have time! Just wait for me to move first. Maybe I can get them away from Cordelia, Soleil, and Caeldori. I won't let them get hurt. I promise."

Gaius sighed. "Soleil looked pretty bad, Blue. She's coughing and struggling to breathe. I could hear her even from a distance. We might not have much time."

Mercer nodded. "I'll find a way to save them. I promise. No one else needs to die here."

Courtney and the Inquisitors with him immediately turned to face Mercer as he emerged from the city streets and walked towards them. Mercer still had the Falchion on him, but he raised his hands into the air and opened them to show that he wasn't carrying anything. Cordelia and Caeldori were on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs, and Soleil was lying on her stomach. She was violently coughing and gasping for air, and she couldn't even turn to face Mercer. Caeldori became very alarmed when she saw him. "Wait! Mercer! It's a trap! They want you to come to them!"

"SHUT UP!" Courtney roared. He struck Caeldori five times with his armored gauntlet before turning back to Mercer. "Chrom! Get over here you royal boob!"

"Courtney!" Kryczek stepped out from behind the Inquisitors. "Let me do the talking." Kryczek walked past his companions until he was only a few meters away from Mercer. He seemed to have a genuine look of concern on his face, and he wasn't carrying any weapons. He honestly looked like he was trying to distance himself from Courtney and his actions. "You're Chrom right? The Exalt of Ylisse? The younger brother of Emmeryn? The leader of the Shepherds?"

Kryczek's tone was calm and reassuring, but Mercer only had to glance back to the girls to see how the Grimleal treated their enemies. He slowly lowered his hands, but he shot Kryczek a bitter glare. "Yes."

"My name is Dr. Kryczek. I remember your actions thirty years ago. Back then I was a professor at the University of Themis. I remember hearing about the Shepherds and the wars with Gangrel, then Walhart, then Validar. We were very different of course. You were a warrior fighting to protect Ylisse, and I was a scientist working to understand the human mind. I admired you though. I admired how you wanted to help the world, and how you fought personally to achieve your goals. You didn't hide behind armies or send soldiers to fight for you. You went out and protected Ylisse yourself. I always felt the same about my work."

Mercer stepped closer to Kryczek until he could see the Inquisitors tensing up. Mercer needed to get closer to Kryczek, who was himself unafraid of Mercer. "You think we're similar?"

"Men like you and I, we're cut from a different stripe. We don't have to dream about bettering the world. We actually can."

Mercer continued to glance back to the women. The Inquisitor standing over them never stood at ease. He was ready to strike them down at any moment. Mercer stepped closer to Kryczek. "You call this bettering the world?!"

"Yes. If you take an objective look at the world, you'll find that things are better now than they've ever been. Humanity used to be divided into squabbling kingdoms that waged petty wars with each other. Now our species is united under one government. No more war. No more suffering."

Mercer pointed towards Cordelia, Soleil, and Caeldori. "Is that what you call peace?!"

Kryczek acted like he'd been corrected of a simple error, but otherwise brushed off what Mercer was saying. "Well of course there are rebellions to put down, but nothing like the wars of the past. For the first time in human history, all of our resources can be devoted towards the same goal. For the first time we're not focused on killing and dominating each other. We can devote all our time and energy towards advancing scientific progress. Ending want and scarcity. Improving the human condition. We can make a perfect world, if only you'll kneel."

"The Fell Dragon could wipe us out at any time!"

"Only if we resist. Was humanity better off on its own? Hell, without Naga's interventions in the past we would have gone extinct long ago. Maybe we just weren't meant to live without the help of gods. How is Grima any different? Sure the changes the Fell Dragon has brought to the world have been radical, but they're for the best."

"What about the destruction of the environment?"

"A good thing! An acceleration of natural selection! By wiping out most plant and animal species, the surviving organisms will become more resistant to future extinction events. The Fell Dragon is strengthening the biosphere! The plants and animals we depend on now will be hardier and more capable of surviving in different environments."

"What about the concentration camps?!"

"They're about resource allocation. Someday the people in those rehabilitation centers will be functioning members of society, and they'll be moved to where they're needed."

"What about Tunnellers?!"

"They only attack settlements that resist us."

"Entire cities have been destroyed!"

"That just makes the surviving settlements more relevant."

"You're insane!"

"Give it a rest, doc. Chrom is a product of the ancient regime. He doesn't understand how things work now." Courtney shouted. Kryczek looked back to him.

"There's no reason we can't negotiate." Kryczek turned back to Mercer and gave him a seemingly friendly look. "I know it's hard for you to see what we're doing. You are part of the old world aristocracy after all. Historically the elite have been resistant to change. You have to see though that ultimately what we're doing is for the greater good. We are working towards the betterment of the world."

"You really think that?" Mercer said dryly. Kryczek was the one to walk forward this time, and now he and Mercer were only about three meters apart. Mercer realized he couldn't get any closer to the Inquisitor standing over the three, or Courtney.

"There's no need to resist us any further. Come quietly."

"You're not going to just kill me?" Mercer nodded towards the women. "You haven't treated them very well."

Kryczek sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes I'm sorry for how my associates have acted. I won't lie to you and say that we don't have instructions to kill most of you. I promise you though, if you surrender now I'll do everything in my power to keep your allies alive. I can keep them out of the rehabilitation centers. I can have them moved somewhere safe."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"I know some of us are rather… unsophisticated, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil. Please. Drop your weapon."

Mercer stared Kryczek down for some time, but eventually he relented. Or rather, he appeared to. Mercer slowly reached for his Falchion, placing both hands behind his back. With one hand he grabbed the hilt of the sword, which made Kryczek smile and let his guard down. With his other hand however, he slowly reached for the flintlock pistol. Mercer took a deep breath and got one last look at the Inquisitor standing over the women. The sight of their bloodied faces sent a feeling of rage through him, and he wanted to attack Courtney the most, but he knew that Courtney wasn't the most immediate priority. The Inquisitor standing over the three had to be taken out so he didn't kill them, and Kryczek was the highest ranking person there. Mercer steadied his breathing and got a good look at both of his targets, just as Keith instructed him to. "Naga forgive me for using such a terrible weapon." The instant Kryczek began to scowl, wondering why it was taking Mercer so long to drop his sword, Mercer pulled out his personal pistol and fired the right barrel at the Inquisitor. Mercer aimed for his forehead, but the bullet went through his eye instead, and Mercer paused to make sure the man went down. Thankfully the shot did kill the man before he could hurt any of the three, and Kryczek was too stunned by the sudden attack to react in time to prevent Mercer from firing the left barrel at him. The bullet tore through Kryczek's neck, sending him reeling to his back. While the other Inquisitors fumbled for their weapons, Gaius sprang out from a nearby street and unloaded both of his pistols into two of the remaining three. The last one was able to reach for his sword, but Ophelia charged from her hiding spot and hit him with her Missiletainn tome. Within seconds, everyone but Courtney had been incapacitated.

"SON OF A-" Courtney only glanced around briefly at his attackers before sprinting away. Mercer drew his Falchion and threw himself after him. The entire time the Grimleal had been talking to Mercer, Caeldori had been discreetly loosening her bindings. She broke out as soon as Courtney fled and went to Cordelia's aid.

"Wait, Caeldori! What's happening to Soleil?!"

Caeldori glanced over to her. Soleil was still too injured to sit up, and her gasps became increasingly pained. "I think something's wrong with her lung. Hold on. I'll get you out of here, grandmother."

"No! Caeldori, she needs more immediate attention. Help her!"

"Uh, r-right." Caeldori reluctantly left her grandmother and tended to Soleil. She tried putting pressure on Soleil's wound, which caused her to spit up a lot of blood. Gaius rushed over to her with an elixir.

"Woah! Are you sure you're supposed to be doing that?!"

"I don't know! I don't know what to do with a pierced lung." Caeldori had to fight to suppress her own panic. "I've always known what to do but now… but now I don't… I don't know! Gods I don't know!"

"Hold on. Have her drink this."

Caeldori tried pouring the elixir into Soleil's mouth, but she started choking on it. "Damn it! Come on, Soleil. Stay with us!"

Meanwhile Mercer sprinted after Courtney. He eventually made his way to a carriage parked behind a nearby building. The very same carriage he had when he attacked Cordelia's home. Courtney darted to the back of the carriage and pounded on it with his gauntlet. "Lucina!" He cried in a slightly panicked voice. "Get your lily-faced ass out here and kill your old man! Now!" Courtney turned and had a visible panic attack when he saw Mercer about to spring on him. He steeled himself and prepared to run. "I'd love to stay and catch up, but I'd hate to break up a family reunion." Mercer paused as he realized what Courtney was getting at. Though he knew it would happen, he could still feel his heart sink as E-13 burst out of the back of the carriage. Mercer immediately felt all the old feelings of guilt come flooding back to him, and he could only make pained and tortured noises as his daughter's face, twisted with feral rage, turned to look at him. She tightened her grip on her parallel Falchion, the very same sword her older self had once wielded, and cracked her neck.

"Oh." Mercer whimpered.

Caeldori, Ophelia, and Gaius were trying their best to stabilize Soleil when they looked up at the sound of bestial roaring to find Mercer locked in battle with E-13. Mercer was in better shape than he was back at Cordelia's homestead, but his far younger daughter was still much faster than he could hope to be. Mercer had a difficult time defending himself, and without meaning to he ended up being driven back to the staging area by her furious offensive. "Lucina! Stop! Please! I'm your father! You have to remember me!" E-13 continued her attack. Mercer's own moves were largely defensive. He still couldn't bring himself to hurt his own daughter, however far gone she might be. "PLEASE! I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU!"

E-13 struck Mercer with enough force to knock him backwards, but before she continued her assault she glanced over to see Kryczek's body. At this point Kryczek was dead from the wound on his neck, having suffocated on his own blood. The sight of her handler's corpse actually made E-13 freeze in shock for several seconds, and when she recovered she unleashed a primal scream that was somehow even louder than her other feral cries. When she brought her hate choked eyes back to Mercer, he found that she had popped several of the blood vessels in them. Her breathing was rapid and irregular, and she flung out saliva with every breath. For an instant it looked like she would hurtle herself at Mercer in a renewed offensive, but then she slowly turned her head to look at Cordelia, Gaius, and the three girls. Mercer desperately cried out to her as she moved to face them. "Wait! Lucina! NO! THEY'RE NO THREAT TO YOU!"

E-13 would not be reasoned with, and she began to walk towards the group. Caeldori and Ophelia furiously tried to move Soleil away, and Gaius attempted to reload his pistol as quickly as he could, but E-13 turned away from them and brought herself to Cordelia. As she had insisted that Caeldori and Ophelia focus on stabilizing Soleil, Cordelia was still bound. Her dedication to her apprentices and the future had been her undoing, and Cordelia could do nothing as E-13 brought the parallel Falchion through her neck. Cordelia's body slumped to the ground as everyone present screamed in abject horror and misery, but E-13 didn't relent. She furiously and pointlessly hacked away at the corpse until it was little more than a bloody, pulpy mess. Only after did she turn to face the others, and she was only a moment away from descending on them too when Mercer furiously tackled her away. E-13 quickly recovered, and with both combatants invigorated by rage at the loss of companions, they threw themselves into a significantly more bitter duel than before.

Mercer's fury was initially able to drive E-13 back, but she countered by kicking Cordelia's severed head into him. Mercer was so shocked by the brutality of this that he barely raised his sword in time to block her next strike, and the trauma of it caused him to vomit uncontrollably on her. Even then E-13 didn't slow down. Her bladework showed a mastery of simple skills, but E-13 had no form or strategy. She just furiously hacked and slashed away. She was always aware of where her blade was however, and she easily countered any attack Mercer tried to make. He found himself driven back even further, and within minutes he was several buildings away from where the group was. Mercer's mind was so overwhelmed by emotion that he couldn't think of anything. He just moved automatically, warding off E-13's attacks as best as he could and focusing on survival. Cordelia's death had come so suddenly that he could barely process it, but part of Mercer felt enraged by it. Other parts of him were still overwhelmed by guilt over what happened to his daughter. Half of Mercer wanted to strike her down, but the other half couldn't bear to hurt her. Mercer was torn between these emotional extremes, so he tried to shut himself down as much as he could to concentrate on the fight. Kryczek's death brought out genuine anger from E-13, and she was moving even more quickly than before. Mercer wasn't sure he could manage much longer. His arms felt like they were going to fall off after only a few minutes of fighting, and nothing he did could break E-13's relentless attack. He began to wonder if he would die by his daughter's blade this day, but Cordelia's words began to run through his head. Earlier she had told him that they needed to be strong for the ones that didn't make it. Mercer couldn't let E-13 or the Grimleal hurt the girls, or anyone else in the city. He refused to accept death by her hand as he had at the homestead. Too many people needed him. If he died here, then they would die too. Mercer would not allow innocent people to die because of him. Never again. At the same time, he couldn't kill his own daughter a second time.

With a roar as furious as E-13's constant shrieking, Mercer tried to use the last of his strength to force her on the defense and ended with a feint to draw her sword out of position. Mercer was able to goad her into leaving herself open, though she was so fast that Mercer was barely able to dodge even when he saw the strike coming. Mercer then used his one advantage over E-13, his superior strength, to overpower her and stun her. In her berserker rage though, E-13 was able to shrug off pain nigh entirely. She responded to Mercer's attempt to grapple with her by head butting him repeatedly, and she was almost able to free her sword arm. With a furious shriek, driven by fear as much as it was by fury, Mercer got a good grip on her and slammed her into the nearby brick wall of a building. Before E-13 could recuperate, Mercer grabbed her head specifically and smashed it against the wall as hard as he could. E-13 crumpled to the ground, still and unmoving. Mercer gave her a wide berth at first to see if she was really down, but as soon as he was sure she wouldn't attack him he rushed to her and checked her pulse. E-13 was still alive, but Mercer didn't attack any further. Instead he cradled her in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. He brought her face to his, ignoring the blood and the vomit and the sweat, and gently kissed her cheek. "Oh my baby. Gods, my baby. No, no-no-no. Oh gah-haaads!" Mercer struggled to speak through his tears. He cried into his unconscious daughter's neck and rocked her back and forth for several minutes until he could finally calm himself. "It's not fair. It's not FAIR! I wanted so much more for you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I thought I could protect the world, but I couldn't even protect my own daughter." Mercer kissed her on the cheek again, giving a long soft kiss that lasted half a minute. "But I'll never stop loving you. I don't care what they do to you. Please know, deep down, that you'll always have me. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know what you're like. But I love you. You… you deserve more from me than one sword and a world of troubles. I'll always love you, and nothing will ever change that. I'll always be here for you." Mercer carefully let go of E-13's body and took the parallel Falchion from her hands. With one last tear filled look, Mercer left her behind and went back to the staging area.

He returned to find everyone wailing. The bodies of the Inquisitor and Kryczek were still lying on the street. Soleil was still struggling to breathe, but she seemed to be more stable than before. Everyone else gathered around Cordelia, screaming and howling in agony. Mercer himself walked over to her. He was terrified of what he would see, but he couldn't stop himself. He just aimlessly walked forward, his legs seeming to take step after step without him telling them to, until he reached Cordelia. Then he fell to his knees and broke down crying for the second time. Cordelia's remains had been so thoroughly savaged by E-13 that it was hard to tell what had been what. It was a horrible mess of human mass, cut apart by the absolute horrible extreme of human rage. As much as Mercer wanted to hold her again, he couldn't bring himself to touch anything. As Mercer fell to his knees, too overwhelmed by everything to do anything but shiver, Caeldori slowly walked up to him. She was the only other person there not wailing, but her face was stained with tears. A disturbing fusion of rage and sadness took her face. "Is she dead?" She almost whispered to Mercer. "That monster that did this. Is she dead?"

"No." Mercer said very quietly. "No."

"How dare you." Caeldori's voice was still soft, but it was shaky. Mercer knew she was about to explode on him. "How dare you spare her."

"Do you know who that was?"

"I DON'T CARE!" Caeldori boomed. "Look what she did to my GRANDMOTHER! If you cared about her, you'd have put that monster out of its misery!"

"She was my daughter!"

"LOOK WHAT SHE DID TO MY GRANDMOTHER!"

"You can't ask me to kill my own daughter! _**NEVER AGAIN**_!"

Caeldori and Mercer suddenly heard footsteps coming up behind them, and the group turned to find Courtney and the three surviving Inquisitors. They had apparently gotten medical attention while the group was distracted with E-13 as their injuries had completely disappeared. The four were fit and ready for a fight, and Mercer and his own group were completely defenseless. Courtney stepped forward. "Kryczek wanted to spare you idiots! He believed that convincing you to surrender was the best option! Aversa even promised us a bonus if we brought Chrom back alive!" Courtney motioned towards Kryczek's corpse. "But that's how you repaid his mercy! You know what?! I don't feel like being that generous. I'm going to get Dolhrian on your asses!" The female Inquisitor with Courtney raised her arm, and about a dozen Tunnellers jumped out. They surrounded the four, but they weren't hostile. They stood by the sides of the Inquisitors and Courtney and patiently waited for the signal to attack. Courtney waited a few agonizing seconds, reveling in the fear of the group, before finally motioning for them to move. The Tunnellers immediately surged forward towards their prey, and everyone prepared to defend themselves as best they could.

The Tunnellers had gotten within a few meters of them when a large, green mass crashed in front of the group, blocking the Tunnellers from reaching them. The mass roared into the air, and it was only then that Mercer finally got a good look at it. It was a bright, shimmering, green creature with large feather like growths that flowed out of it, like whisps from a spectral entity. The creature visibly glowed, radiating light outwards like a star, and Mercer couldn't look directly at it. From what he could see though, he realized exactly what the creature was. "Tiki!"

"Is that a Divine Dragon?!" Courtney shouted an instant before Tiki seized him in her jaw, thrashed him around, and then threw him at least twenty meters into the air. Courtney was thrown so far that no one could see where he landed, and a moment later the three Inquisitors were were blasted by a kind of icy, slushy breath from Tiki. Tiki continued to breath on them until the Inquisitors were completely covered by the icy slush, and they didn't move anymore after that. The Tunnellers themselves briefly hesitated after Tiki arrived, but not because they were afraid of her. Rather they seemed to be wondering if they could actually eat her. As soon as the Inquisitors were down, the Tunnellers attacked. They climbed on top of her and struck at her in any way they could. With their raw strength they were able to actually tear off some of her scales, and one tore off one of the growths she had coming from her head. Tiki roared in agony as a bright glowing liquid poured from her injuries, but she didn't relent. She violently shook and bucked the Tunnellers off of her, and she grabbed at them with her jaw whenever she had the opportunity. Even as she chewed and tore their comrades apart, the Tunnellers continued to attack until there were only a few left. Gaius managed to finish reloading his pistols and shot two of them, while Ophelia hit a third with her tome. The last one climbed into Tiki's head and started slashing at her, but Tiki rammed it into a building and then bit it in half. She flung its severed half into the air, and then roared triumphantly into the sky. She then began to glow brightly, and the thundering roar of her dragon form became a high pitched scream as she transformed into her human form. In this form Tiki was covered in red human-like blood, and there were gashes across her body, but she didn't look harmed or pained. She just turned to Mercer and the girls and smiled warmly. Ophelia and Caeldori immediately ran and embraced her.

"Tiki! You're okay!" Ophelia exclaimed. Tiki winced as the girls pressed against her wounds, and she had to back away.

"It's good to see you all! Truly. Is everyone alright?"

Caeldori looked down to her feet and nodded towards what remained of Cordelia. "No." She said in a broken voice. "No."

Tiki slowly walked over to Mercer. She recoiled at the sight, but not as severely as a human would have. Rather she reacted like a human would react to the sight of a squashed worm or caecilian, but she did place her hand on Mercer's shoulder and rock him back and forth. "I… I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." He said without looking up.

"What… what happens now?"

"I do what I couldn't do when the others died. I bury her."

* * *

Mercer stood in front of a makeshift grave the group had made for Cordelia. All the others, save for Soleil who needed medical attention, were there. A piece of wood was used to mark it, and two things were carved into it, the name Cordelia, and when she lived, 2589 AC - 2641 AC. Mercer stood closer to it than anyone, and after staring intently at it for several minutes, he drew his Falchion and slammed into the ground with a frustrated roar. Everyone except Tiki took a few steps back, but Tiki approached him. "What are you doing?"

"For thirty years I turned away from the world as evil consumed it." Mercer responded without turning around. "I thought that I would dishonor all of them if I ever took up a sword again, but now I see that by hiding I was dishonoring everything they fought for. Innocent people suffered because I tried to hide from it all. Now I see that so long as their rotting cancer ravages this land like a plague, innocent people will die. The only way to stop it is to fight back."

Ophelia slowly walked over and placed her hand on Mercer's shoulder. "Mercer." She whispered softly. Mercer himself responded in a soft but bitter growl.

"My name is not Mercer." Ophelia's eyes widened as she began to see what he was saying. She watched as her great uncle pulled the Falchion from the ground and turned to face the group. "It's Chrom!" Everyone present had some kind of reaction. Ophelia shivered and became giddy. Caeldori stood in wide eyed silence. Gaius looked to the ground unsure of what to think. Tiki gave a warm smile as she realized what was happening. "You all! You honor me with your fealty! I will not falter again! We will answer for this outrage! This time the Mad King, who now calls himself our emperor, will be stopped! This woman, this soldier who would give everything in service to Ylisse, did not die in vain! She did not die for a dead country! I am the descendant of Marth, the Hero King! Of Anri, the champion of Naga! Of the First Exalt, who stood against Grima! I am the father of Lucina, the warrior out of time! I will no longer allow myself to do nothing while the Grimleal oppress this land! That would dishonor everything they stood for! I will take this sword as my ancestors did, and I will fight for this land!" Chrom raised the Falchion into the air. "The dead heart of this world will beat again, damnit! Humanity is not defeated yet. Ylisse is not defeated yet. The world is not defeated yet. Not as long as I wield this sword to defend it! Not as long as I have men and women to stand by my side!"

And in the distance, across continents and seas, hovered the Fell Dragon. It's leathery wings cast a shadow across the surface of the world, and its form was so large that the atmosphere quaked and broke down as it flew by, as if the planet itself was reacting to its presence. Ever aware of what its human subjects were doing, Grima witnessed the descendant of the Hero King raise the one weapon that could end it into the air and swear to stop it. With that, the Fell Dragon unleashed a furious roar that could be _felt_ kilometers away.


	19. The Aftermath

The Grimleal capital of High Point was created after the Fell Dragon's ascension. It was intended to be a symbol of the new world, distanced from the borders and cultures of the old world. To that end it was built with help from the Fell Dragon itself, and it was an engineering achievement beyond anything humanity had ever done itself. There were many notable ways in which High Point was different from any other city, but the most significant was that it moved as the Fell Dragon did. High Point hovered about a kilometer and a half above the surface of the world, just above the planetary boundary layer of the atmosphere. It could also move under its own power, exactly as the Fell Dragon did.

Living quarters in High Point were cramped and as tightly packed as possible, but High Inquisitor Aversa's personal quarters were much larger than anyone else's. Her quarters were dwarfed by anything in Gangrel's palace in Ylisstol, but it was considered spacious for High Point. She had a personal bathroom, a kitchen separate from her sleeping area, and a room for meditation. She did have windows, but they were small. The door leading to her quarters was metal, and it was completely airtight when shut. At that altitude the air was much colder, and you didn't want to be outside anymore than you had to be. Windows were needed to circulate air through the living quarters, but they were small to minimize loss of heat. High Point was much colder than the sunny Plegia Aversa was used to, so she often took warm baths. Aversa had always liked to take baths or go swimming, and it was a great way to get away from the cold temperatures at high altitudes. It was one of the few things she could enjoy in High Point.

Aversa was no stranger to Grima's telepathic communications. Though the Fell Dragon had to use the Hierophant to communicate with members of the Grimleal on the surface, it was capable of telepathically speaking to anyone on High Point. Aversa could constantly feel Grima in her head. She could not have a thought or a feeling without Grima being aware of it. It was something she was used to, but that was only something the Fell Dragon did passively. When Grima communicated with her directly, she was always aware of it.

"Did I have the oven turned off?" Aversa wondered aloud as she sank deeper into the warm bath waters. "Mmm… yes. Yes I did. Aah. Long day, long day." Aversa took in the warmth of the bath water, and for a moment she allowed herself to smile. It was very short lived. Without any warning, she began to feel a sharp pain in her head. It was like something was tightly pinching parts of her brain. She furiously grabbed at her head, but the pain could not be relieved. It grew worse and worse until she began to jerk around. She looked up to find that she was surrounded by nothing but pitch black darkness. She could still feel the bath water, and the parts of her below the waterline weren't visible, but she didn't appear to be in her bathroom anymore. She was in some kind of black void, and in front of her materialized six glowing red eyes. They bathed her in a menacing red light, and there wasn't anything else she could see in the black void. The eyes had no pupils, but Aversa knew they were focused on her. "AAAAGH!" Aversa struggled to speak through the pain. "Lord Grima! W-what?! WHAT?!"

"High Inquisitor!" The Fell Dragon's voice boomed.

"What do you want?!"

"You have FAILED me!"

"How?!"

"The spawn of the Hero King still live."

"Gangrel you idiot." Aversa muttered to herself "Lord Grima, I apologize for my failure. Gangrel was the one charged with governing humanity, however. Why am I at fault?"

The pain in Aversa's head grew even worse for a few seconds. Aversa felt relieved when it finally stopped, even though the pain didn't disappear completely. The agony was so great that it made the original mental attack seem pleasurable. "Yes Gangrel was charged with governing humanity, and you were charged with enacting my will. I charged both of you with eliminating those who can wield the Falchion, though you are right that Gangrel is too weak to stop them. I need a real member of the Grimleal."

"So you want me to do it?"

"Go to the Ylissean continent. Wipe them out."

"You do know I'm in High Point right? The Ylissean continent is several hundred kilometers away!"

"DO NOT QUESTION ME!" Grima mentally tortured Aversa for another thirty seconds, and when it finally ended she found blood trickling down from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

"Agh! I'll do it! I'll kill them!"

"Those who can wield the Falchion against me must be killed. If I have to go to the Ylissean continent myself, you WILL NOT like what I do! I will turn the surface into glass! Your miserable race will no longer be spared, and you will witness its DISMEMBERMENT!"

The red glowing eyes disappeared, and Aversa finally returned to her bathroom. She glanced down to see that the bath water had become slightly red from her blood dripping into it. She leaned back against the wall. "Argh! I'm always having to pick up after Gangrel! Never send a man to do a woman's work, and never send a King to do an Inquisitor's job." Aversa raised her hand and had magical energy arc off her fingers. "Oh Chrom sweetie, you don't know what you're getting your royal rear into. What was the worse thing Gangrel did to you? Send your daughter after you? That's nothing. You have no idea what I'm capable of now."

* * *

As soon as the fighting had ended, Soleil had been taken to a doctor for medical attention. Caeldori and Ophelia were forced out at the time, and Caeldori wasn't able to see Soleil again until the next day. When she returned to see Soleil, she found her lying conscious in a bed. She was alert enough to turn and look at Caeldori when she entered, and she wasn't coughing and hacking with every breath anymore. Caeldori smiled out of relief, and Soleil gave a wider than normal smile in return. "Hey." She said in a very soft and weak tone. "Caeldori. You came to see me?"

Caeldori took a chair and sat by Soleil's bed. "Of course. I was so worried about you. It's good to see you're not struggling to breath anymore."

"Well the doctor applied a healing staff to me. He said everything should be fine so long as I don't do anything rough for the next few days, or maybe he said weeks. Anyways it's nothing serious-" Soleil suddenly started a violent hacking fit that lasted several seconds. Caeldori gave her a pained look.

"Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine." She answered softly. "That comes and goes." Soleil glanced down to see two roses in Caeldori's prosthetic hand. "What are those for?"

"Oh. Right." Caeldori pressed a switch on the back of her prosthetic that caused its index finger to release. One of the roses dropped, and she handed it to Soleil. She slowly took it and smiled even wider. "This is for you."

"Is this a damn joke to you?" Soleil jested. Caeldori smiled at the words she had once said to Soleil when she was injured. Soleil sniffed it. "But really, thank you. You found that flower merchant I went to?"

"I guess I did, but the stall was abandoned. Flowers were scattered everywhere. I didn't want them to go to waste."

"What's the other rose for?"

"Cordelia. I want to put it on her grave."

Soleil's smiled disappeared entirely. "Oh gods. Something did happen to her? I couldn't look up to see, but I heard everyone screaming."

"She's gone, Soleil." Caeldori whimpered. Soleil rarely saw Caeldori show any real emotion, and she certainly never showed weakness. "She… she wouldn't let me untie her. Not as long as you needed help. That enforcer we fought at Cordelia's house killed her in cold blood. I couldn't do anything about it. I was too busy tending to you." Caeldori looked down at her feet, and Soleil physically trembled from a twinge of guilt. "If you hadn't been hurt, maybe I could've freed her. Maybe she'd still be here."

"Caeldori." Soleil said with genuine remorse. "I am so sorry."

Caeldori looked back up and suppressed her feelings. "I'm not mad at you, Soleil. That man did this. It's not your fault. But… why did you have to talk back to him? If you hadn't talked back, he wouldn't have done that to you!"

"I had to show some kind of defiance. I couldn't just let him push us around."

"But you had nothing to gain! The whole time we were captured, I was loosening my bindings. That's why I could break free as soon as the fighting started. You shouldn't have openly talked back like that. It didn't do anything to help us, and it just got you hurt."

Soleil sank into her bed and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not perfect like you." Soleil's words weren't filled with snark or resentment. She seemed to be gripped by self loathing. "You're right, Caeldori. Cordelia died because of me. I'm sorry."

"No!" Caeldori said as she gently grabbed Soleil's shoulder. "That's not what I'm trying to say. I'm upset because… because I almost lost you. For no reason."

"You… worried about me?"

"Yes! I know we bicker, but I couldn't let you get hurt! Soleil… I'm alone. Who knows where my mother and father are. Cordelia raised me, and now she's gone. Without you and Ophelia… I have nothing. If I lost you two… I'd be alone." Caeldori ran her hand down Soleil's arm until she gently gripped her hand. "You put your life in danger for no reason. Just to talk back. I'm not mad at you. I just…" Caeldori was clearly trying to not break down, and Soleil didn't know what to think. She honestly never thought Caeldori cared that much for her. "Please… don't leave me alone."

"I would… I would never do that. I'm sorry. Please don't be upset." Soleil took her hand away and placed it against Caeldori's cheek. "Remember what I always say? Turn that frown upside down. Know what you have then? A smile!" Soleil briefly went into another hacking fit, but Caeldori was calmed by what she said.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm, I'm fine. Hey, I'm sorry I abandoned you when we first saw the Tunnellers."

"It's fine."

"No really. I'm sorry. It's just that Ophelia and I saw them before. It was awful. We panicked, but I should've known that you would get us through it."

"It's fine, Soleil. What's important is that you both came back."

Soleil relaxed in her bed. "I was right. Cordelia never trained us for what we have to deal with, but she did do a lot for us. I wish I'd taken her training more seriously back then. I wish I didn't goof off so much. I wish I didn't talk back to her so much. I'll miss her."

"She was a good teacher. She did love you, Soleil. She loved all of us. She saw the future within us. She was proud of what we've become."

"Yeah. I guess."

Caeldori got up from her chair. "Well I'm glad to see you're okay. I'll tell everyone. I should get going, but I'll check up on you again."

"Sure. Thanks for coming to see me."

"Of course. Goodbye, Soleil." Caeldori left. Soleil stared at her longingly until she wasn't visible anymore, and then she sniffed her rose.

"Goodbye… Caeldy."

* * *

Caeldori made her way back towards the city's citadel, where the group had buried Cordelia. There she found Chrom standing over her grave, just staring at it. Caeldori wanted to be alone, but after several minutes Chrom refused to move. Caeldori sighed at the realization she would have to interact with him, and so she walked forward until Chrom turned at the sound of footsteps. "Oh! Caeldori! Did you come to see her grave?"

"Yeah." She responded weakly. "And… I'd like to be alone with her."

"Oh." Chrom stared at the ground for a few seconds. "I see. I won't bother you any further."

"Wait. Don't go. It wouldn't be right for me to force you to leave. We'll just… be here together for awhile." Chrom and Caeldori both stood together, looking at the small piece of wood that marked Cordelia's resting place. "How long have you been here?"

"I've lost track of time." Chrom responded.

"She meant a lot to you?"

"She did. I want to say that I loved her, but you might not want to hear that. Maybe you think I took your grandmother away from you in the final days of her life, and maybe you think she shouldn't have been so kind to me after what I did to her."

"I… well… yeah." Caeldori looked at her feet. "Yeah."

"You're entitled to your opinions. I won't offend you by talking about how much I grew to care for her these past few days, or how I don't think I would've kept going without her support. Instead I'll talk about what she meant to me as a Shepherd. She meant very little."

"What?!"

Chrom shook his head. "I didn't make time for all of my allies. I probably never spent more than an hour with her. I never made time for her. There were a lot of them that I never really talked to. I regret that. I took some of them granted. I took her for granted. Apparently she loved me, even back then. She tried to hide those feelings, but almost everyone figured it out. Everyone but me. That's how little time I spent with her. In a better world she would have become captain of the Pegasus Knights. She would have reported directly to me. Even then I'd probably never spend time with her. I… I didn't know what I had." Chrom placed his hand on the makeshift grave. "I am so sorry, Cordelia. You deserved so much more of my countenance. I didn't deserve the kindness you showed me these past few days. I love you. I failed you. Just like I failed my wife. My children. My sisters. My friends. Everyone."

Caeldori hesitated at first, but she eventually put her hand on his shoulder. "Mercer."

"Please don't call me that. I took that name to turn away from who I was. I thought I'd dishonor the Shepherds if I ever took up a sword again, but now I see that innocent people will continue to die if I do nothing. The only way to stop it is to fight back." Chrom turned and looked Caeldori right in the eye. "I would like for us to be allies again. I want you and the others to stand by my side. It's what Cordelia would have wanted. I understand if you hate me though. You have every right to hate me."

Caeldori darted her eyes around, thinking of her words. "I uh, well… mmm. I can't… I can't say that I'll ever look up to you like I did when we first met in the Rockpile. In a way though, that wasn't fair of me. I was just seeing the man that Tiki told us about. I didn't really know you then. After you told us about what really happened thirty years ago, I did hate you. I am still mad at you." Caeldori looked at him sympathetically. "But that's not fair. It's not fair to hate you for something you didn't have control over, but it's also not fair to want you to be the man that Tiki told us about. I need to get to know who you really are now. From what I've seen, you're a bitter, self-hating man. When you don't wallow in angst and pain, you're violently lashing out at something. When you were a young man you believed that the world could be changed for the better, but now you think it's dead. You're willing to fight against the Grimleal now, but not because you think yourself a hero. You do it out of revenge. You do it out of rage. Your idealism is gone. It's been replaced by bitterness and loathing, and when you're motivated to do something, it's out of anger." Chrom tried to look away, but Caeldori stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "But you still care about people. You may not want to be around others much, and you turn away from almost any affection people show you because you don't feel like you deserve it, but you still care about people. You'd do anything to help someone in need. I know you still think the world can't be saved, but you're willing to fight against the Grimleal now because you don't want anyone else to get hurt. You don't even think of your own safety. You just want to make sure no one else has to die. You are still a hero, even if you don't think that way about yourself. That's what my grandmother loved."

"I… I don't-"

"So maybe things can't be like they used to be, but I will stand with you. If you'll help us fight for the world, then I will stand by your side."

Chrom smiled at her. "Thank you, Caeldori. I will fight with you. I can be the man you want me to be, if you'll let me. I just… I just need some time." Caeldori nodded and the two looked at Cordelia's grave for some time before Chrom spoke up again. "You know, there is something I've been thinking about."

"What is it?"

"You lost your Pegasus right?"

Caeldori looked saddened. "Yes. I lost her when I was captured in Southtown."

"Well now Cordelia's Pegasus doesn't have her rider. She needs someone to take care of her."

Caeldori's eyes widened. "M-me?!"

Chrom gave her a faint smile. "You can't be a Pegasus Knight without a Pegasus."

"I don't know. She's so old. I'm not sure how to care for her."

"I'm sure you're up to the challenge. You're a gifted soldier." Chrom placed his hand on Caeldori's shoulder this time, and the two smiled at each other. "Cordelia would be proud of you."

"She'd be proud of you to see you fighting by our side. Thank you." Caeldori looked down. "But… if it's okay… I'd still like to be alone with her."

"Oh! Of course." Chrom began to walk away. "Goodbye, Caeldori."

"Goodbye, Mercer… I mean, Chrom." Chrom left and Caeldori turned back to her grandmother's grave. She pressed a switch on the back of her hand, and the other rose dropped out. She placed it on the grave. "I miss you. So much."

* * *

In the city center, near Nowi's skeleton, most of the city's surviving civilian population gathered around a podium. The crowd was anxious and worried, but the men standing on the podium did nothing to alleviate their uneasiness. The man standing in the center was a tall, thin man dressed exactly like Lucina, to the point that he was wearing a blue wig and a butterfly mask. By his side was an older man in black armor, and another elderly man with a massive beard that consumed most of his face. Several civil patrol troops armed with long halberds and arquebuses flanked them.

"What are we waiting for, Justicar?" Cervantes asked. "The crowd is worried." Cervantes glanced over to the outside of the city center. The massive pile of corpses that the Tunnellers had made was still there, even if the Tunnellers themselves had been slain. The very sight of it was horrifying, and in a few hours the smell would become excruciating. "We need to address them."

"I'm waiting on Vasto." Keith responded. "I tasked him with looking at the damage to the city from the air."

"Why does he need to be here? This crowd needs to be addressed! The people look like they're on the verge of panicking!"

"Do not question the Justicar!" Farber snapped.

"Wait, Farber! He's right. We should address this crowd." Keith looked out over the audience and raised his sword into the air to draw their attention. Farber nodded to the civil patrol troops, and two of them fired their arquebuses into the air. The crowd briefly cried out in terror, and the people all turned to look at Keith when they realized who fired the shots. "People of Nowi Falls!" Keith roared. "This is your Justicar. I have two announcements to make! One. Old Man Marty, who we used to respect, is actually a con man. He will be beaten with a stick tomorrow morning. Two. On account of the Grimleal attack last night, and because we cannot possibly remove the hundreds of corpses scattered throughout the city before they become biological contaminants, this city will be abandoned." Keith paused as the crowd began to panic. Two other civil patrol troops shot their guns into the air to silence them. "I hereby release you from your allegiance to the Archanean Liberation Front. Those who choose to remain in the city will no longer have our protection. Those who choose to leave must provide for their own transportation." Keith and the other Arch Surg soldiers stepped down from the podium as the crowd broke apart. Many people ran at them, bombarding them with desperate questions, but the civil patrol troops held them back.

"Secure the seedlings." Keith commanded to Farber as the three hurried away from the crowd. "We can't abandon the plants we have growing here, and I don't want the civilians to take them in their panic. The wheat, soy, potatoes, and cassava take precedent. Take other species only if we have extra space on the convoys."

"Yes, Justicar." Farber was about to leave, but before he could Vasto swooped down and landed his wyvern in front of them. He quickly dismounted and ran up to Keith.

"Justicar, sir!"

"Report."

"It's horrible!" He stated in a shaky tone. "There are bodies all over the place! There probably isn't a family here that isn't missing someone!"

"What about structural damage?"

"There's a massive hole in the east side of the wall. I have no idea what caused it. Maybe it was that explosion we heard?"

"I think I do." Keith answered. "In the morning I came across a dead Tunneller with cast iron pots strapped to it."

"Pots?"

"Yes. The pots were filled with gunpowder."

"They were bombs?"

"They're called Thunder Crash Bombs. Cast iron pots filled with gunpowder. They have fuses that make them go off when the fuse burns out. The Grimleal must have strapped bombs to Tunnellers and used them as suicide bombers to blow open that hole in the wall. The Tunneller I found must have been away from the blast, and its bombs must have been duds."

"But why open the hole in the wall like that?" Vasto wondered. "The Tunnellers could just dig underneath it."

"That's true." Cervantes responded. "We thought about that. We think they blew open the hole so that human agents could enter the city."

"It explains a carriage I found by the citadel." Keith stated. "They might have been after us… or maybe even Chrom and his companions."

"Gods. So many civilians died." Vasto shook his head. "I wish we could have done something for them."

"At least we saved most of civil patrol." Cervantes said in a cheery tone. "Only ten casualties there."

"But hundreds of civilians were killed! How could so few civil patrol troopers be hurt. Were they sent away?!"

"Of course! I had them evacuated as soon as he attack began!"

"But you didn't evacuate the civilians?!"

"Of course not! They distracted the Tunnellers. We couldn't have evacuated civil patrol otherwise."

"You… you left the civilians to die in order to save our troops?" Vasto took several steps back. "We're… we're supposed to protect them! What is wrong with you?!"

"What? I saved our garrison! Civilians are expendable."

"Wha! Y-you're a monster!"

"What?" Cervantes looked to Keith and Farber. "That's being a good officer! I saved our men."

"There's nothing wrong with that, but you left the civilians to be torn apart! We're not just supposed to fight against the Grimleal. We're supposed to rebuild civilization. We have to protect these people!"

"They knew how dangerous it was to live here."

"What kind of message does it send if we abandon the civilians whenever things get difficult?"

"What kind of message does it send to our troops if we abandon them?! We would be looking at mass desertions."

"They were innocent!"

"Cervantes is right." Keith added. "There are no innocents in war. There is us and them. Those who stay loyal to the Grimleal are enemies. Those who live with us know the risks. We can't put them ahead of the men and women who actually give their lives for us."

"I can't believe you three! How can you be so apathetic to the civilians?! This is a time of mourning!"

"You're going to be mourning the loss of your teeth if you speak that way to the Justicar again!" Farber barked.

Vasto glared at the three men. "You're all monsters! You all rant about saving humanity, but you only care about yourselves. I'm tired of taking orders from you Keith! You have no military experience. You have no empathy. You're nothing like the woman you so desperately want to copy. She was a hero! You're just a thug!"

"Hmm. That is ironic. Look everyone! Vasto detected an irony! He's so smart. Yet despite his intelligence and military experience, I'm higher ranking than he is. Oh look! Now _I've_ detected an irony!"

"The only reason you're so high ranking is because you're Archangel's son! She took pity on you!"

Keith stepped forward, and Cervantes and Farber stood by his side. "Are you questioning my authority?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"But you are afraid of Archangel. You're just a dove, and she's a raptor." Keith got right in Vasto's face and spoke in a low and menacing tone. "Question me again, and I'll drag you back to her in chains."

Keith, Farber, and Cervantes left. Vasto glared at them as they left, then turned to look at the civilians the civil patrol troopers were holding back. "This is not over."

* * *

On the other side of the city center, towards the front of Nowi's skeleton, Tiki stood alone, contemplating it. She didn't notice Ophelia approaching until she was standing right next to her. Ophelia wasn't sure how to break Tiki out of her trance, but she did eventually notice Ophelia's awkward sighs. "Oh, Ophelia! I'm sorry. Did you need something?"

"Not right now. I just wanted to see what you were up to."

Tiki sighed herself and looked back to Nowi's skeleton. "Nothing."

"Did you… did you know her?"

"Yes. I did. I know humans think Nowi was old, but to my kind she was just a child. They did this to a child." Tiki's words were very pained, and Ophelia wasn't sure how to respond, but she didn't feel right leaving Tiki by herself.

"I can't imagine what it's like to see her like this."

"I'll tell you. When I look at that, I see what's becoming of my kind. We're all going to end up like this one day."

"Wha?!"

"My race is dying, Ophelia. It has been for some time. Ever since the degeneration started. We degenerate into madness, or humans hunt us down. There's some kind of infertility that keeps us from breeding, and we can't remain in our dragon forms without degenerating."

"I… I don't know what to say."

A tear fell down Tiki's cheek. "I thought I was the last Divine Dragon born, but Nowi had to have come from somewhere. She filled me with hope. She made me think that our race could have a future. To see her like this now… it's over. We're all going to die out, and if we don't stop Grima, humanity will join us."

"But we will stop Grima." Ophelia looked at Tiki and tried to put on a brave face. "And we couldn't do it without your help. Thank you for being here."

"Of course. I'm sorry for not being here sooner. When the Grimleal ambushed Caeldori and I at Southtown, I moved around frequently to make sure they weren't tracking me. Then it took me some time to find you all. I'm so sorry I couldn't be here sooner."

"That…" Ophelia thought of Cordelia. "That wasn't your fault. You did save our lives. We're happy to have you back."

Tiki went back to staring at Nowi's skeleton. "I never saw the civilization my kind used to have. The degeneration started not long after I was born. My mother made me slumber to prevent me from degenerating. It ruined us. It destroyed everything."

"How so?"

"You humans celebrate the defeats of Medeus, Duma, and Loptyr, but they just sadden me. They remind me of what my race is becoming. Medeus was once the fair and just leader of the Earth Dragons. He even agreed to take a human form when the other Earth Dragons refused. But over time he degenerated, and he became consumed by his hatred of humanity. Duma was once a proud warrior. He once challenged my mother, and when Naga defeated him he chose to try and better human civilization. He too degenerated into madness. Loptyr was once a proud member of the Earth Dragons. He was proud of his heritage, and he didn't want our civilization to disappear. He degenerated, and he was consumed by his hatred of humans. They used to be good people, Ophelia. Humans remember them as monsters, but they used to be proud and strong members of our civilization."

"Degeneration is really that horrible?"

"You know the wyverns?"

"You mean like Minerva?"

"Yes. They used to be a tribe of dragons. They used to be sapient, just like you and I."

"W-what?! They used to be people!"

"Yes. They refused to take human forms. They weren't as powerful as the other tribes, so they didn't threaten the world when they degenerated. They just turned into feral beasts. Now humans tame them and breed them."

"I had no idea!"

"Don't feel bad, Ophelia. There's nothing we can do for them now."

"I…" Ophelia stared down at her feet. She suddenly felt unable to look at Tiki. "I can't imagine what you're going through. I thought humanity had it bad."

Tiki put her hand on Ophelia's shoulder and smiled at her. "When the degeneration started, and when the infertility began, my mother realized that our civilization wouldn't last. She chose to guide the development of human civilization because she thought your kind could be our successors. So many dragons disagreed with her. They fought her, and even lashed out at humanity itself. But she believed that guiding human civilization was what was best for the world. She wanted your kind to prosper." Tiki's expression became solemn. "But I did little to help. I slept for so long, and even when I was awake I turned away from humans. It was so hard to connect with them. From my point of view, you disappear in the blink of an eye. I didn't want to get close to any of you, because I would lose so many people I cared about over the millennia if I did. Even when Grima was a threat, I did little to help. I didn't join the Shepherds until late in their fight with the Grimleal, and I didn't really do much. I didn't take the threat that Grima was to humanity seriously. Now Grima is more powerful than even my mother, and everything she worked for is going to be wiped out." Tiki couldn't hide her sadness, but she did smile again. "That's why I'm fighting with you now. I'm going to make up for sleeping through so much human suffering. I'm going to be there for you."

"Oh, Tiki. You've done so much for us. I could never fight against the Grimleal like I do now without you. Don't feel bad."

"Thank you, Ophelia."

Ophelia was silent for some time, but the question she had burned at her. She knew it would be painful for Tiki, but she couldn't hold it in. She was always a curious person, and she took advantage of any opportunity to learn. "So Grima is more powerful than Naga?"

Tiki didn't look back at Ophelia. She just stared at Nowi's skeleton again. "Yes. It is. Many people call it a god. My mother would disagree with that. It is stronger than us, though. Grima is not one of my kind. It's alien."

"It's not a dragon? It looks like one."

"I don't know what it is, but I know it didn't exist when I was born. It's just so terrifying. My mother did so much to protect humanity, and this abomination comes out of nowhere. Threatens to wipe humanity off the face of the world. Threatens to undo everything my mother worked for. I don't know what it is. But I can fight against it. I'm not going to sleep through anymore human suffering. I'm going to protect humanity. My mother believes that you can be our successors. I'm not just going to do nothing while you're all wiped out. I may have to move around a lot, but I'll always come back."

Ophelia embraced Tiki. "Thank you."

"O-of course. Ophelia you're… you're squeezing me very tightly."

"Oh! Sorry. I'm just so glad you're okay!"

Ophelia and Tiki turned to see Chrom walking towards them. He almost darted his eyes away when Tiki looked at him. Though he was willing to fight with the girls now, he had turned Tiki away so many times over the past few years. He felt bad about it, but Tiki only gave him a warm look. Ophelia was more worried. "Chrom! Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"You were at Cordelia's grave for so long. Are you okay?"

"Yes. Really."

"I'm so sorry. I'm going to miss her. She was… the closest thing I had to a parent. After I lost mine."

"When did you meet her, Ophelia?"

"Tiki took me and Soleil to her just a few years after she met us. That's also when we met Caeldori. She trained the three of us."

"When I found Cordelia, she wanted to help train the girls after I told her about them." Tiki added.

"Everyone was fighting for the world except me." Chrom said in a sad tone. Ophelia walked up to him.

"Hey don't talk like that. You're going to help us now." Ophelia became giddy. She took Chrom's hands and almost jumped up and down. "You can help us just like Tiki always said you would! You can train us! You can show us things! We can be just like the Shepherds! We'll be heroes!"

"Uh-"

"We should come up with team up attacks! How about, how about… Icy Gale of Justice!" Ophelia struck a strange pose. She put her hand in front of her face, stuck her other arm outwards, and squatted. "I'll blast our enemies with an icy blast of wind from my tome, and you can hit them with your sword! Now show me your pose!"

"My pose?" Chrom looked to Tiki for support, but she just giggled. "I… what? I don't have a pose."

"Oh come on! Every hero needs a pose! Lucina had a pose! She would stand and hold her Falchion so that the hilt was near her head, and the blade went down to her right side. She also had that pose where she raised her left leg towards her and held out her mask in her hands. I'm confused how she did that though. Was she sitting down? Did she do that standing?"

"I have no… what?!"

"You need a pose! Hmm, maybe we should just come up with more team up attacks. How about… Divine Strike of the Holy Blood! I'll strike this pose!" Ophelia put her feet shoulder width apart and raised her left arm high in the air. She pointed her right arm towards Chrom. "I'll blast the enemy with my tome, and you can hit them with your sword… again."

"Uh Ophelia, I'm not sure about all this."

"How about we name our weapons. You have that pistol. It needs a name. How about... Thundergrypp! Yes! We'll call it the Thundergrypp! Your armor also needs a name, but first it looks like it need to be repaired."

Chrom looked down at the dragonscale armor. After everything that had happened, he forgot he was even wearing it. The armor had saved him from the Tunnellers, but it was also cracked and falling apart. Nowi wasn't invincible after all. "Oh gods. This armor." Chrom looked to Tiki, and she had noticed something strange about the armor.

"Chrom, where did you get that?"

Chrom looked down at his feet. "A street vendor told me it was from Nowi. The scavengers that founded this settlement apparently made it from her scales. I'm... so sorry. I had to wear it. The Tunnellers would've killed me otherwise."

Tiki walked up to him and stood by Ophelia. "Don't feel bad, Chrom. You had to, and you didn't make the armor."

"No. I should feel bad... but I know how to make this right."

Chrom went back and retrieved a shovel, and he started to dig a hole in the city center. It wasn't as deep as the grave dug for Cordelia. It was just deep enough to hold the dragonscale armor. When Chrom was finished he stripped off the armor, leaving himself with only his dark blue work-shirt, his raggedy trousers, and his worn boots. He placed the armor in the hole and buried it. At this point Ophelia figured out what he was doing, and she retrieved a piece of wood. They used it to make a makeshift grave, and they carved two things into it. The name Nowi, and when she lived. No one knew when she was born, so they just carved 2631 AC, the year she died, into the wood. The three then gathered around and gave the makeshift grave a solemn look. "There." Chrom said as he looked back to the skeleton in the city center. "Now she has a real grave."

Tiki was moved by the event, and she had to steel herself. "That was very thoughtful, Chrom."

"I'm so sorry, Tiki. Gods. I am so sorry."

"You have to stop blaming yourself."

"No. It is my fault. She may have escaped thirty years ago, but it's my fault they hunted her like an animal for twenty years. I'll never stop hating myself Tiki." Chrom turned to her. "But I will stop turning away from what the world is becoming. I will fight to protect people." Chrom smiled at Ophelia. "I will fight for my family."

Ophelia gave a grin from ear to ear. "You don't know how happy that makes me. Now you can help us!"

"Yes. Ophelia... come with me."

"Hmm? Why?"

"I have something for you."

Chrom walked away, back towards the citadel, and Ophelia and Tiki followed him, leaving Nowi's skeleton and grave behind. Chrom made his way through the city, its streets now filled with a handful of civilians who ran from building to building gathering whatever supplies they could. Chrom thought it was strange, but he didn't let it stop him. He went back to the citadel and into an alleyway near Cordelia's grave. He returned with a sword in his hand. It looked exactly like his Falchion, but his sword was sheathed. Ophelia's eyes lit up. "Did you... did you steal Keith's sword?!"

"No. This... this is real."

"W-what?"

Chrom took a deep breath. "This is the parallel Falchion. It's the sword my daughter brought back from her timeline. Gangrel must have taken it from... oh gods... from her corpse when the Shepherds fell. He must have given it to... to that enforcer." Chrom looked Ophelia in the eyes, his lip trembling. "But I took it from her when I defeated her. Now I want you to have it."

"You... you're serious?"

"You said you wanted to fight against the Fell Dragon. You'll need to be able to use the Falchion. We are family. It is your birthright."

"I can't..." Ophelia slowly stepped forward. "I can't believe it."

"This is what you wanted right?"

Ophelia turned to Tiki, and Tiki nodded at her. Ophelia moved very slowly, and she acted like she was afraid of the sword, but eventually she did take it. She looked at it in awe, but winced as a red liquid got on her hand. "Ah! This is blood!"

Chrom recoiled. "Yeah. It was a rough battle."

"Is it... is it your blood or her blood."

"I don't even know. It might actually be Cordelia's blood." Chrom felt physically sick to his stomach. "Let's talk about something else."

"R-right." Ophelia smiled at the sword. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe this. I've dreamed about this for so long, but now I can't believe it's actually happening."

"I'll teach you to use it."

"I don't mean to offend you, but I'd rather be a mage."

"That's fine, but you'll still need to know how to wield it."

"Alright. I'd like that." Ophelia gently placed the parallel Falchion on the ground and embraced Chrom. He and Tiki couldn't help but smile, and Chrom shivered a little. He put his arm around his grandniece and sniffled. "I'd like that to, Ophelia."

Ophelia took a step back and darted her eyes around. "I-I know you don't want to talk about this, but what happened to that enforcer? You know... your daughter?"

"I couldn't kill her. I found a way to incapacitate her."

"But what happened to her?"

"I..." Chrom froze. "I didn't even... I forgot about her." Chrom started speaking in a flat tone. "I forgot her."

"There was a lot going on."

"I FORGOT HER!" Chrom drew his own Falchion and slammed it into the ground, causing Tiki and Ophelia to step back. "DAMN IT!"

"Calm down!" Ophelia cried. "It's okay!"

"NO! It's not! You don't understand." Chrom ran his hands through his hair. "The reason I fought so viciously against the hallucinations of Risen was because I thought I was protecting the infants! When it was all over, I forgot them! The Grimleal kidnapped them because I forgot them! It's why I fought so fiercely, and I forgot about them!" Chrom fell to his knees. "And now I've forgotten her AGAIN! DAMN IT!"

"Calm down! Please!" Ophelia hugged Chrom again, and he slowly calmed down. "Maybe she's still there. Maybe a doctor gave her medical treatment. I'm sure she's fine. We just have to go look for her."

"Oh gods." Chrom said through tears. "I hope they didn't take her again."

"How could they take her? They were all killed. They couldn't possibly have survived that."

* * *

A few kilometers away from Nowi Falls, Courtney and the three Inquisitors with him made their way through the sand dunes on foot. Courtney was so overheated that he had taken off his mask, and the three Inquisitors gave him a significant berth to avoid having to look at his deformed face. Courtney just trudged on, though eventually he had to rest. After taking several minutes to catch his breath, he turned to see the Inquisitors were several meters behind him. They all quickly turned away when he looked at them. "Oh get over here you babies! You've never seen a burned face before?"

"Could you… could you put your mask back on?"

Courtney groaned and rolled his eyes, but relented. He took out his mask and fastened it back over his face. He rose to his feet and panted as the Inquisitors walked back to him. The female Inquisitor with long, lilac hair wiped sweat from her brow. "Gods it's hot. Why couldn't we take the carriage?"

"Because there was nothing to pull it with, dipwad! The Tunnellers were all dead."

"Could we have walked out through the caverns the Tunnellers dug?"

"The city was in a desert. There were no caverns! Tunnellers normally dig caverns underneath buildings to collapse them, but you can't dig caverns through sand. It just collapses! That's why we had them fight on the surface."

"So we have to walk?" The woman moaned.

"No, we don't have to." Courtney responded in a dry tone. "I just enjoy long walks in the sun!"

Another Inquisitor, a short man with green hair and an acne problem, walked up to Courtney. "Maybe we'd move faster if we weren't dragging her along." The man nodded behind Courtney. He had been dragging a woman through the sand behind him by a rope tied to his gauntlet. The woman was out cold, but she was also tightly bound so that she couldn't possibly move. The woman had a bloody wound on the side of her head, long navy blue hair, and the mark of Naga on her left eye. Courtney stared the man down.

"What's your name?"

"I know I've told you my name!"

"I've outlived a lot of Inquisitors, son. Just remind me of your names. All of you."

"I-I'm Federov." The man responded. Courtney turned to the woman.

"Rayhanah." The woman answered. Courtney turned to the final Inquisitor, a lean man with golden hair and a patchy beard.

"St. John."

"St. John? What kind of name is that? Why not just John, or Saint?"

"What Man is named Courtney?"

"Fair enough." Courtney walked over to E-13's unconscious body. "Look dipwads, Gangrel put you under my authority. If I get in trouble, you get in trouble! Gangrel is already going to be pissed that we failed our mission, and that we lost the parallel Falchion. At least I can save his chief enforcer."

"But Kryczek was the only man who could control her. Without him she's useless. We should just leave her out here to die."

"I'm not throwing away a perfectly good weapon. I'll find a way to control her without Kryczek." Courtney looked down at her. "You hear that, girl? Kryczek held you back. I know you wouldn't have been much if Chrom raised you. He'd have you in a ballgown courting suitors until you finally popped out his inbred grandbabies. Me? I'll unleash the warrior inside you. I'll make you everything your time traveling self was and more. I'm your daddy now, and we're going to have a _hell of a time_!"

* * *

Deep within the Rockpile, two Grimleal soldiers stood guard at a door. They didn't look like they took their jobs very seriously. Their weapons were slumped against the wall, and they leaned back and slouched. The prison revolt that Caeldori had started caused a lot of damage to the facility, and a few prisoners escaped by commandeering wyverns, but the guards had held out in the end. Most of the prisoners were killed in the fighting or later executed. Only a few that refused to take part had been left alone, but since then the facility had been filled with new prisoners. Things had gone back to normal, down to the lazy and uncaring guards that only worked when Inquisitors were around.

"Did you hear about what the Arch Surg did to a village in The Midmire a few weeks back?" One of the guards said to the other. "Those terrorists took all the men and women aged sixteen to twenty two and had them killed. They said it was punishment for being loyal to the Grimleal."

"That's awful!"

"They were lead by that one teenager we occasionally see leading their forces. The one that dresses like Lucina."

"Who?"

"The Shepherd? The time traveling princess?"

"Oh yeah."

"Time to tip the scales! That's what she would say, right?"

"No. That wasn't her. That was Basilio."

"Who was that?"

"The black lady from Ferox. She was the reigning Khan."

"I thought her name was Cherche?"

"No that was the swordsman from Chon'sin who couldn't talk to women."

"How many of them were there?! How were they ever defeated?!"

"Aversa opened a portal and flung them into an alternate universe. That's what I heard."

"That's crazy. She probably just made that up to make herself seem more important. I bet she just poisoned them or something. She's not that powerful, and her Inquisitors are worthless!"

"Hey shut up! Altman could hear you! He's in the other room."

"Why is he still here?! I thought he was just stationed here to experiment on those women?"

"Aversa gave him a new task, but I don't think he's leaving. In fact another Inquisitor came here. He's tall and has white hair. He's got a strange accent. He's from a far away continent. Jugdral, or Magvel, or Tellius, or Algeria, or some such place."

The two guards quickly straightened up when they heard the door to a room down the hallway open. Inquisitor Altman, clad in his black and gold armor and wielding his long glaive, made his way towards them. He walked past the two guards and entered the room they were guarding, and the guards went back to slumping back against the wall as soon as the door closed again. The room Altman entered featured a balcony overlooking the prison courtyard. Leaning against the railing was a tall man wearing heavy robes, with a white shirt and pants underneath. He had stark white hair, though he didn't look older than thirty five, and was very toned. He resembled Robin, the man that had once been the tactician of the Shepherds, but was larger and had a more thuggish look. Most notably, the man had custom sunglasses made from very thin cuts of smoky quartz. As he leaned over the balcony, smoking a cigarette, a translucent figure with glowing red eyes phased through the floor and rose behind him. The man exhaled smoke and rested his hands against the railing. "I know you're there, Sheila. I can hear you breathing." The man turned to face the entity. "What do you even need to breathe for anyways?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." The spectral entity responded in a feminine but distorted voice. "Now who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I don't have to answer that, mate. I only have to talk to Altman. That's what Aversa said."

The spectre floated closer to the man, but he didn't react. "You can tell me who you are willingly, or I can rip the information from your mind."

The man took another whiff of his cigarette. "Spare me. I know your story, Tharja. You try and act like you're some spirit out of hell, but you're just a mage that cast a spell she shouldn't have. You're not the first witch I've met that came a gutser, and you're not the first dark mage I've met with a few hinds loose in the upper paddock. You don't scare me."

"Aww. I used to have that effect on men. Am I losing my touch?"

"Rack off, fruit loop." The spectre raised one of its flickering arms, and the man's cigarette exploded in his hands. "Bloody, fair suck!"

The man drew a tome and made electrical energy arc off his right arm. The spectre channeled magical energy through its own arms, but both turned when Altman finally walked forward. "Can't you two just get along?" He said in a calm and flat tone.

"Keep your pet on a tighter leash, Altman. She's loosening it."

"Leave us, spectre. I will let you know if I have need of you." Altman ordered. The spectre seemed to glare at the two men, though it was hard to tell with the lack of facial expressions, but it did eventually sink back into the floor. Altman stood up straight as he looked back to the man. "Inquisitor Dartsmoth. I've heard so much about you. You're Aversa's best tracker. You're so talented that she had you transferred from your continent."

"I'm not up myself, but that is too right. Aversa sends me to wherever the Grimleal needs people found. I understand you're quite a brick shit house of an Inquisitor yourself, though you're more of a scientist?"

"Yes. I'm currently involved in a project that I can't divert my attention from. That's why you're here."

"Well on to business then. Who exactly do we need offed?"

Altman walked over to a desk and pulled out several folders. He handed them to Dartsmoth. He opened up the first file to see a number of papers related to Caeldori, and a detailed sketching of her. He opened up the next two files and saw similar papers on Ophelia and Soleil. "Those are the descendants of the Shepherds. Ophelia is descended from the Hero King, and is capable of using the Falchion. They need to be taken care of."

"Aww, they're so cute. They still have spots."

"One thing, Caeldori must be kept alive. I need her for Project: Xenologue."

"What might that be?"

"You don't need to know that. Just make sure she's taken alive. The others need to be killed."

"Got it." Dartsmoth set the three files down and opened the fourth. Inside was a detailed sketching of Chrom. It still depicted him with unkempt hair and a beard. "And who is this bloke? He's rugged looking."

"That's Chrom. He and Ophelia are the priority targets. Aversa would like for him to be brought to her, but it's not necessary. You can kill him if you need to."

"Handsome fellow like this? He deserves more than a gangbanger styled death. I'm a professional after all. I'll bring him back hogtied."

"Excellent. You have your mission, Dartsmoth. Now you just have to find them."

"That shouldn't be that hard." Dartsmoth thought for a moment. "My gut tells me they're probably hiding out with the Arch Surg, and that means they're probably in the GYFA."

"The gyfa?"

"The GYFA. The Great Ylissean Fuck All. It's what I like to call the badlands. The Arch Surg like to hide out there. That's what I've learned from killing a few of them." Dartsmoth set the fourth file down. "Don't worry. This won't take long at all."

"You're that confident?"

"Real piece of piss. Now I will need some resources."

"Of course. Follow me."

Altman left the room again with Dartsmoth in tow. He walked down the hallway, pretending not to hear the two guards as they desperately fumbled to look like they had always been standing upright, and took Dartsmoth into a small room sealed off by a rather heavy door. After undoing three separate locks, Altman stepped inside. The room had a small shelf with a number of tomes and other magical artifacts on it, but nothing else of significance. Dartsmoth casually glanced around in boredom until swirling purple energy began to consume much of the room. He looked back to Altman in a panic to find that he was channeling the energy from his hands. It radiated off his body and occasionally arced and cracked into the walls. "Uh… you're okay right? M-mate?!" Altman paid him no mind, and instead finished casting his spell.

"Warriors born from dark magic! Once you were called upon by the Loptyr Sect, and once you were called upon by the High Inquisitor herself to serve the Fell Dragon's hand!" Altman was yelling, yet he still kept his voice devoid of emotion. "Now I call upon you to once again serve the Fell Dragon. I call upon you to wipe away the spawn of Naga, who would destroy the order we have brought to humanity!" The swirling masses of magic materialized into twelve individuals. They all wore unique armor, but each one of them had the same distinguishing feature. Their skin was pale and seemed to radiate purple light, and their eyes were glowing red.

"Bloody bones of the Earth Dragons!" Dartsmoth choked out. Altman turned to him.

"Allow me to introduce the Deadlords. Mus, Bovis, Tigris, Lepus, Draco, Anguilla, Equus, Ovis, Simia, Gallus, Canis, and Porcus. These are great warriors that have appeared throughout the millennia. They will be yours to command. Take them, and wipe out our enemies. All of them."

Dartsmoth slowly stepped forwards. The Deadlords turned to look at him, but they didn't react otherwise. "Erm, hey there. How's it going?"

"There's no point in talking to them. They're not much for conversation."

"Right." Dartsmoth turned back to Altman, and the Deadlords continued to stare at him. He tried very hard to ignore it. "Anything else then?"

"Yes. Aversa told me that we have Black Authority. We can appropriate anything we need from the Grimleal in the Fell Dragon's name. In other words, feel free to help yourself to Gangrel's possessions and people."

"Now there's blood worth bottling! Thanks heaps for the diggers." Dartsmoth walked out, and the Deadlords tried following him. They all tried to go through the door at the same time, and it was a few seconds before they finally walked out one by one. "Now I get to do _my_ job." He said in a cheery tone.

* * *

Cordelia found herself in an empty void of sorts. There was a white light surrounding her, and she felt like she was physically present somewhere. There wasn't anything obviously wrong with what she was experiencing, but it just felt off. She couldn't shake a feeling of dread. A feeling that something was very wrong. Cordelia rubbed her hands against her face and struggled to remember where she had last been. Her memories on what had happened before she appeared here were fuzzy. She vividly remembered Nowi Falls, and being with Chrom, Gaius, and the girls. She remembered waking up to screaming. She remembered Grimleal agents finding her not long after she dressed herself and stumbled outside, but they didn't hurt her. They tied her up and took her somewhere, and they eventually took Caeldori and Soleil too, but she didn't remember them hurting her. She couldn't recall what happened next. She had feelings of fear and horror, and memories of fighting and screaming, but her mind shut down when she tried to focus on exactly what happened. "Mmm." She moaned. "Erm, where am I?"

When Cordelia took her hands out of her face, she saw something that froze her. The most disturbing thing was that she did _see_ something. Cordelia already thought it strange that she could detect a strange white light around her, but now her eyes seemed to be working. The image in front of her was perfectly clear. She hadn't been able to see like that in twenty years. Besides that, the woman standing in front of her was a woman she had long thought gone. It was a woman that had once been her best friend. Sumia. "Here in my empire, that you do not remember. Your hands do not toil. Your eyes do not see. Your ears do not listen." Sumia smiled at Cordelia, but her expression was otherwise blank. Cordelia wasn't sure how to respond.

"I-I… what?! Sumia? How?! Where are we?!"

Cordelia turned when she heard the voice of another woman. It was a voice she hadn't heard in decades, and it immediately brought back countless memories of her past. It belonged to Phila. "Chaos reigns. And your hands cannot toil. And your eyes cannot see. And your ears cannot listen."

"Phila?! What?!"

Cordelia began to back away, only to find Frederick and Sully standing near her. The sight of old friends would have been reassuring, but Cordelia was becoming increasingly horrified by the strange things happening to her. All four of them chanted. "But I will return, and my crusade will bring order to the land. And through war your hands will toil. And through war your eyes will see. And through war your ears will listen."

"What?!"

"I shall return. And the world will toil. And the world will see. And the world will listen. And that world will cease to be."

Cordelia backed away until she bumped into something. She turned to see a very tall man adorned with elaborate blue and gold plate armor. The man didn't look any younger than eighty, but his posture was tall, and the man was very imposing. "My world will remain." He states in an authoritative tone.

"What's going on?! How is any of this possible?! Stay, stay back!"

"Do not worry my child. Struggle no more. Suffer no more." The man placed his hand on Cordelia's shoulder, and she immediately calmed down. Her eyes began to glow bright purple. "Your service to Ylisse has not ended, Pegasus Knight. It has just begun."

"Yes, my lord." Cordelia replied. Her expression was now blank, and her tone was as flat as the chanting of the others.

"Come now, my children. We have much work to do."


	20. The Enemy of my Enemy

Keith stood in the courtyard of his citadel, crouching down and slowly walking towards a corner. He was holding a severed human arm in his hand, and he placed it near the wall of the courtyard. He got up, stomped his feet on the ground several times, and took a few steps back. "Come here, boy." He said in a soft tone. "Come on. Come on out. Here boy. I have food for you. Come on."

Nothing happened for several seconds, but Keith didn't move. He was as motionless as possible, and after some time had passed he could feel faint vibrations beneath his feet. The vibrations quickly became more pronounced, and with no other warning a single Tunneller burst out of the ground near where he had been stomping his feet. The Tunneller quickly grabbed the arm and started gnawing on it, but it soon turned to Keith and shrieked at him. A bullet went through its head an instant later. "Ha!" Keith said as he holstered his pistol, identical to the one he had given Chrom. "I knew there was one still around here. Gotcha you little bugger!"

Farber walked up to Keith and stood at attention. He made no attempt to attract Keith's notice. Instead he just waited for Keith to notice him on his own, but Farber also seemed fixated on the young man. He carefully watched his every move, and he had a calm, dreamy look on his weathered face. He just stared at Keith until he turned to see him by chance. "Oh! Farber. I wasn't expecting anyone."

"I apologize, Justicar."

"You're supposed to be helping with the evacuation. I want to move out within two hours."

"The convoys you tasked me with securing are ready to be moved, sir. Now we are just waiting on the personnel to finish a number of small tasks in the city."

"Oh, of course. Thank you, Farber. I should have know better than to assume you hadn't done your task. You are a very capable officer."

"T-thank you, Justicar." Farber said, his breath short.

"Is there another reason you're here then?"

"Yes, Justicar. A scout from Pheros' army has just arrived in the city. Her force is likely only an hour or two away. If we wait for her to return, then we can move out with the city's garrison returned to us."

"Excellent. She was able to figure out that the Grimleal forces moving towards the city were just a diversion to lure out the garrison while they attacked with Tunnellers. It's unfortunate that I didn't realize what was happening earlier, but at least we were spared any casualties."

"Right. So we'll wait then?"

"Yes. We will leave as soon as Pheros returns. You're dismissed, Farber."

Farber thought about his words carefully. "Wait, Justicar. Permission to speak freely?"

"Permission granted."

"There is something else we must do before we leave the city. Archangel wants Chrom and his companions taken to her right? They need to be taken alive right?"

"Yes. She needs them alive."

"Well I don't trust them to come on their own." Farber stepped forward. "I think they should be detained."

"What?" Keith seemed somewhat offended at the suggestion, but he did consider it. "We already keep them in the city."

"That's not good enough. They came in on a wyvern and a Pegasus. They could just fly out. They need to be in chains. They'll leave otherwise. You know they will."

"I don't know. If I force them to stay, it could turn them away from our movement."

"But if they escape you, Archangel will not be happy. You'll be stripped to your skivvies and flogged in the streets, and it'd be much worse if you weren't her son."

Keith nervously glanced around. "That is true. I still don't think it's the best course of action."

"Can I at least have them followed? I'll show you that they're likely trying to leave the city."

Keith thought about it for almost a minute. "Alright. Have them followed, but report back to me before you do anything else."

"Yes, Justicar!"

Farber turned and left the citadel, and Keith turned back to the dead Tunneller. Farber walked outside of the building and found Cervantes waiting for him. "What were you doing in there?"

"Reporting to the Justicar, as a good officer would!"

"He didn't ask you to see him."

"Well a good officer wouldn't need to be asked! He would always be there when needed. If you must know, I was informing the Justicar of my suspicions. I do not trust Chrom and his companions to stay with us of their own volition. They must be detained to ensure that Archangel can see them. The Justicar gave me permission to have them followed."

"Well that sounds reasonable without subtext." Cervantes said in a suspicious tone. "Though I think you spend way too much time with him. You're always by his side, and you always try to return to him as quickly as possible when he sends you away. It's not normal."

"I am being a capable officer!"

"It's weird! A man as old as you shouldn't be that devoted to a nineteen year old! You look like a damn pederast."

"Quiet! I have loyalty to the Justicar. Perhaps you need to have that kind of loyalty beaten into your skull!"

"Oh bring it on! I kicked your arse thirty years ago to be one Walhart's chief lieutenants, and I'll do it again!"

Both men suddenly became very saddened, and Farber's gaze fell down to his feet. "I miss Walhart."

"Me too." Cervantes said in a quiet tone. "His dream of a united humanity, free from the petty squabbles of kingdoms and religions, would have created a better future for everyone. Those damn Shepherds ruined everything. They come to our continent and say that they're right, and that we're wrong. Well they didn't do much good for the world in the end now did they?! Morons! All of them!"

"Keith is a great man in his own right. I miss Walhart, but I see much of him in Keith. He's strong and devoted and fearless. He's a natural leader, and he would give anything for humanity. He'll never stop fighting for a better future."

"Nnrg. Why don't you just propose to him already?"

Farber didn't react to Cervantes' comment. He seemed lost in thought. "Oh Keith. You are the wind at my back and the sword at my side. Together, my Justicar, we will build a peaceful world… just you and me."

Cervantes took several steps back. "Wow, Farber. That was… that was a really strange thing to say."

"Quiet you miserable pile of barbershop droppings!"

* * *

Ophelia and Soleil made their way into the city's wyvern stables. They were both relieved to see that no wyverns were killed, or even harmed. The stables were strewn with mutilated Tunnellers, however. It was clear that the wyverns were targeted by the monsters in their attack on the city, but they were more than capable of defending themselves. If anything they got free meals out of the battle. Ophelia and Soleil ran through the stalls, the other wyverns largely too tired or full to pay them any attention, until they found the wyvern that was distinctly theirs. The two embraced their draconic companion, and the beast nudged them both with her snout. "Minerva!" Ophelia exclaimed. "You're okay! Oh I missed you!"

Minerva playfully nudged the two girls, and Soleil smiled wider. "Oh we're so sorry for not seeing you earlier. You weren't hurt were you?"

"No." A familiar voice responded. "She wasn't hurt. I inspected her thoroughly."

Ophelia and Soleil turned to find Caeldori standing a few meters away. She was tending to Aurora, brushing her hair and feeding her. She didn't turn to the two. "Caeldy?" Ophelia asked as she stepped forward. "We didn't know you were here."

"Yeah. I just had to… step away from it all for a while." Caeldori stared listlessly into Aurora. "With Cordelia gone… someone has to take care of her Pegasus."

"You?"

"I don't want to. Gods I don't want to. She's a horrible reminder of my grandmother. I'll see her every time I look at my mount." Caeldori started to tear up, and she rested her face on Aurora's snout as her grandmother had once done. "I-I'm not ready. My training wasn't over, and now I'm the only Pegasus Knight left. The order lives or dies with me." Ophelia slowly walked up to her and placed her hand on Caeldori's shoulder. She looked at her, and found her struggling as hard as she could to remain stoic. "But I'm not ready. I'm not the soldier my grandmother was, and I don't know how to pass on my training. Did she expect me to train other women? To rebuild the order? I don't know how! I'm not good enough!"

Ophelia smiled at her, trying to reassure her. Soleil followed behind, but her nigh eternal smile was faded. Caeldori never showed weakness in front of others, and Soleil always thought of her as domineering. She wasn't sure how to feel about her words now. Was Caeldori just traumatized by the loss of her grandmother, or did she always have these feelings? Did she always view herself as inferior to her mentor? "Oh Caeldy." Ophelia said softly. "Come on. She knew you could do it."

"But I'm not ready. I can't be the future of an entire military order! I just don't know how, and who could teach me now?"

"Maybe Chrom could help?"

"What does he know about being rebuilding the Pegasus Knights?" Caeldori turned back to Aurora. "I'm sorry, Ophelia. Maybe you're right, but I just don't have your confidence."

"So you… you don't want to take care of Cordelia's Pegasus?"

"No. She'll always remind me of my grandmother, and she's so old. She would need special care. I'm not sure if I could do it. If she dies because of me, then I'll lose what little I still have of my family. She's… she's a microcosm of my station. Just as I must take care of a dying mount, I must rebuild a dying order, and they will both be gone forever if I don't… but I don't know how. I'm just not ready."

"Caeldy…"

"Just… is there anything you two needed? Help with Minerva? Do you want me to cook you something?"

"W-what? No! No don't worry about us right now. If you need time alone then we can do that."

"Thank you, Phelia."

"But you can do it. You're one of the strongest people I know. You'll be fine."

"T-thank you."

Ophelia nodded and walked out of the stables. Soleil found herself alone with Caeldori, unsure of what to say. "Uh… w-what she said."

"Thank you, Soleil." Caeldori said in a flat tone, without looking up from the Pegasus. Soleil followed Ophelia out, and Caeldori hung her head. "Oh, girl. I don't want to abandon you, but I don't know if I can take care of you. I just… I don't know. I'm not ready. For any of this."

Meanwhile, Ophelia and Soleil left the stables and made their way back towards the center of the city. They didn't notice a man watching them. Hidden away in an alley, Farber mounted his horse and rode off.

* * *

Chrom was once again standing over Cordelia's grave, silently contemplating the woman it honored. He turned at the sound of footsteps to see Gaius walking towards him, and a twinge of guilt hit him as he realized he hadn't thought of Gaius since before the attack. Gaius stumbled forward and had a hard time walking straight, and Chrom soon saw why. He had two bottles of wine in his hands. One was empty, but the other was still full, and it spilled every time he took a step. "Blue! Still here? Huh?!"

"Y-yes." Chrom responded nervously. "I'm still here."

"Great. Just great. I wanted to make peace with her in private, but I gotta spend this quiet time of reflection with the man who got her killed."

"I… I'm so sorry." Chrom didn't want to argue with Gaius. He just took a deep breath, trembling as he exhaled. "If the girls hadn't taken me to her home, then she'd still be alive." Gaius just grunted in response and took a swig of wine directly from the bottle. Chrom looked at him and felt a mixture of uneasiness and sadness. "You're drinking?"

"Yeah. Sure am. The people here are so scared that they're leaving all kinds of things behind. They don't know what to take. What matters. I found a whole cache of wine. I didn't want it to go to waste." Gaius approached the grave and looked warily at it. "Plus, there's a lot of pain I'm trying to drown."

Chrom and Gaius stood together for a few awkward seconds, both men looking at their friend's grave and trying not to think about their mutual aversity. Chrom's guilt extended to Gaius though, and he still felt the need to do something for him. To at least talk to him. "Did you know her well?" He eventually managed to say.

"We all knew each other." Gaius responded bitterly.

"Well yeah but did you… really know her?"

"Better than you."

"Yeah." Chrom looked back down. "I didn't make a lot of time for her back then. There were a lot of allies I didn't make time for. I wasn't really there for everyone, not like Robin was. He talked to everyone. Bonded with everyone. I should have been. I should have built bonds with all the men and women that fought for me. It's one of my many failures."

Gaius nodded. "She had a crush on you back then you know." He said without looking up. "It was really obnoxious. I mean it was just unhealthy, and everyone knew it. Everyone but you. That's how little you cared about her back then."

"Yeah." Chrom said in a broken tone.

"A lot of us were happy when she and Libra tied the knot. We thought she'd finally move on. I guess she didn't really, and I guess you must have felt something after all." Gaius finally brought his head up, and he glared at Chrom. "Or maybe you just latched onto her because she fawned over you like everyone else used to." Chrom didn't look back to Gaius, and he eventually stopped glaring at him and took another drink from his wine bottle. "Ah well. Doesn't matter now. All that matters is that she's gone, and we're still here. She was one of the bravest and strongest people I knew, and now she's gone. Meanwhile we're still here. A thief turned assassin and a man that butchered his friends and family. There's no damn justice in this world."

"Yeah." Chrom muttered. He slowly looked at Gaius, but Gaius didn't glare at him again. He just returned his dejected expression. "Gaius… what happens now?"

"I don't know, Blue. I don't know."

"Do you think… will things between us ever change?"

"They already have changed. I don't want to put a bullet in your head anymore. I couldn't do that to Tiki or the girls. They seem to actually like you."

"Will you ever stop hating me?"

Gaius got very close to Chrom, and spoke in a menacing voice. "You killed my wife and daughter. You ruined everything we fought for. I'll never stop hating you for that." Gaius looked back to the grave. "But in the time I've spent with you over the last few days, I see that you do feel sorry about what happened. You do care about the people you failed. You… you really do care about her, about all of them, so I don't hate you for that."

"Well I'll never stop hating myself. Does that make you feel better?"

Gaius put his hand on Chrom's shoulder in a way that was both reassuring and forceful. "No. It doesn't. It does make me feel better to know that you really did care about her though. It does make me feel better to know that you really care about those girls."

"Really?"

"I don't know if things between us will ever get better, but against my better judgement, it fills me with hope to see you fighting again. Like I said, there's no justice in this world. Maybe that's why it's nice to occasionally make some."

Chrom almost smiled. "Yeah."

"Goodbye, Cordelia!" Gaius shouted in a drunken slur. "Thanks for trying to tidy me up, not that it did any good." Gaius turned back to Chrom and gave him a strange smile. "You know, Blue, I never gave her a nickname. I gave everyone a nickname, but not her. I guess I forgot. Maybe… maybe it's not too late."

"Umm, sure."

"How about… Red?"

"I could have sworn you gave someone that nickname already."

"That's right! I gave that name to Anna. How about… Wingtips."

"What?"

"She used to have that headband? Just like Copy's?"

"I don't know."

"Right. How about… Genius. Because she was always so perfect? I heard it's what the other Pegasus Knight recruits used to call her."

"Do you really want to use a nickname other people came up with?"

"You're right. Hmm. I'll come up with something." Gaius briefly looked away, and he seemed to be thinking. "You know, Blue… when we first met the Arch Surg forces, Vasto said something. He said… justice, like lightning, should be to few men's detriment but all men's fear. Justice like lightning. I like the sound of that. I don't know if it should be to few men's detriment. The people that did this are definitely going to pay. The Grimleal will pay for what they did to Cordelia. They'll pay for what they did to… your daughter." Gaius extended his arm. "We can make them pay for this."

Chrom allowed himself a genuine smile, and he took Gaius' hand. Both men shook hands, and the two shared a moment of brief optimism. "Thank you, Gaius. I don't deserve the trust you still have in me, but thank you."

Gaius glanced down to his wine bottle and held it outwards. "Want some?" Chrom hesitated, but eventually he nodded and reached for the bottle. Gaius pulled it away right before he could grab it. "Ooh sorry. Just remembered. Alcohol is for men who don't slap their girlfriends around. Store policy."

Chrom didn't say anything in response. He just sighed and gave a defeated look. He and Gaius turned back to the grave, but they looked up at the sounds of a man coming towards them to see Vasto. Vasto looked eager to talk to the two, but he paused at the sight of the object of their attention. "A grave?"

"Yeah." Chrom responded. Vasto walked over and saw the grave.

"Oh! Cordelia! She didn't make it?!" Chrom shook his head, and Vasto seemed stunned. "Oh. I… I'm so sorry."

"Thank you."

"Really! I am. I know I didn't know her well but… she meant a lot to me."

"H-how so?"

"I'll never forget when she showed up to reinforce you that day in Breakneck Pass. That's when I began to realize that the battle was turning against me, and from then on I didn't fight with my full strength. I allowed myself to become worried and weak, and so I was defeated quickly. If I had given it my all, if I had fought as bitterly as I could have, then I may have died. I wouldn't be here now. In a way she saved my life."

Chrom thought about Vasto's words. "Huh. It's amazing how little things can make such big differences in people's lives."

Gaius just shrugged. "Did you need something?"

"Right." Vasto stepped closer to the two. "Look, I needed to see you two about something. This isn't official. I'm not saying this as an officer of the Arch Surg. I just don't know who else I can go to."

"What?" Chrom asked.

"Keith is abandoning this city. He's having all his forces evacuate."

"What's wrong?"

"He's leaving the civilians behind! He doesn't want to take them along. He's leaving them here to rot, or to wander out into the desert on their own! These people have seen enough pain. We should be doing something for them!"

"That's horrible! I thought it was his job to protect the people of this city?"

"He doesn't care about them. He only cares about himself! Him and the other officers! I can't just let them abandon everyone. We have to find a way to help the people still here!"

"But how?" Gaius interrupted. "We can't move that many people, and we don't have supplies for them."

"We have to do something." Chrom spoke up. Vasto smiled.

"I knew you would agree! I didn't know if anyone would help, but I'm so glad to see that you really do care about the people. Come on. We can discuss this with my men near the city center."

"Why not right here?"

"My men are waiting. We can do a lot more with them." Vasto paused. "Actually… let's find your other companions too. We can all be here to talk about this."

"Umm, alright. I'll get the others, and we can talk about this in the city center."

* * *

Chrom and Gaius gathered Tiki, Ophelia, and Soleil and followed Vasto to the meeting point. Only Caeldori was missing as she stayed in the wyvern stables. Vasto eventually seemed to be leading them in circles, and he repeatedly turned to look at Chrom. He finally stopped near an alley right as Chrom was beginning to get suspicious. "Well here we are."

"What?" Chrom looked around, and he slowly reached for his sword. Vasto watched him with a very nervous expression. "What is this? Vasto, where are your men?"

Vasto began to back away. "I'm sorry. This… this isn't personal."

"W-what?"

Before Chrom could question any further, Tiki cried out in pain. She quickly pulled out a blow dart of some kind from her neck. "What the?!" Tiki began to stumble, and Chrom caught her in his arms. He looked up at Vasto, whose own face was racked with guilt, in panic.

"What's going on?!"

Tiki started to doze off. "Chrom? I don't… I don't feel so good. I don't… oh." Tiki fell unconscious. About a dozen civil patrol troopers all burst out of hiding places as soon as she did, and they all trained arquebuses on the group.

"It's a Dolhrian attack, arseholes!" An eager civil patrol trooper shouted. "Not so tough without your big lizard!" Chrom and the others slowly rose their hands into the air, but he turned to glare at Vasto.

"You tricked us!"

Vasto looked at his feet. "I was ordered to. I'm sorry." Chrom gave him a menacing look, but that paled in comparison to the unadulterated hatred he felt when he turned to see Keith and Farber approaching the group.

"Yes he was ordered to." Keith said. "He was ordered to bring you all here to me, so that I could ensure that you didn't escape me again. He was supposed to bring all of you though. Where's the blind woman?"

"She's gone!" Gaius spat out.

"You're just hiding her. I'll find her!"

"No, Justicar! She's really gone!" Vasto added. Farber walked up to Keith and handed him a piece of wood. It was the same piece of wood Chrom had used to make a makeshift grave.

"We found this by the citadel, Justicar. I think she really did die in the attack."

Chrom and his companions looked on in horror as Keith callously took the gravestone and inspected it. "You defiled her grave?!" Soleil cried. "How dare you! You fops!"

Keith read the grave carefully. "Hmm, so she was killed in the attack. I'm sorry for your loss." He shrugged and tossed the grave aside. "Oh well. Out with the old, in with the new. There is no place for Pegasus Knights in our new world anyways. They're enforcers for the old world aristocracy, repressing the working classes for the decadence of the landed elite. It's for the better that she died an old world hero, instead of a bitter old hag."

"Damn you." Chrom snarled through gritted teeth. Ophelia stepped forward.

"You don't like the Pegasus Knights? I thought you were inspired by the old Halidom of Ylisse?"

"No. The old systems failed. We're going to build a new world order. My reverence is for Lucina. She was part of the royal family yes, but that's not what made her great. The only thing her birth gave her was the ability to use the Falchion. There was no throne to inherit by the time she was an adult. Human civilization had died by then. In every other way she was dealt an awful hand in life, but she rose to be a hero. To fight for humanity. Her story is not defined by entitlement, but by strength and merit. That's the world we will create. A world where the common man will rule, and people will rise through their own merits. Archangel will ensure that this dream becomes a reality, and you're going to meet her."

Chrom was shaking with fury at this point. "Stop talking about her!"

Keith walked towards Chrom, and the civil patrol troopers all readied their weapons to fire if anyone tried anything. He got very close to Chrom and spoke in a low tone. "I know it's hard to see me like this. I know it must bring back some unpleasant memories."

"Shut up." Chrom said through his attempts to suppress his feelings.

"But I only dress like this to inspire people, as she did. I'm sorry it brings you pain. Just let it all out. You'll feel better."

"S-Shut up!"

"The information I read about her in Shepherd's Folly told me about what she was like. Long blue hair. Blue eyes. A determined, reassuring voice." Keith chuckled. "A strange fashion sense. Kind of awkward in some social situations. Good hearted. Always willing to help someone. Is that all accurate?" Though he desperately wanted to block out everything Keith said, his description of Lucina did bring back even more memories for Chrom. He finally broke down, if only briefly. Keith seemed to feel for him, though it was difficult to tell as only the bottom half of his face was visible, and he stepped forward and tried to hug Chrom. "Hey, that's it. Let it out."

"Get off of me!" Chrom shook Keith off. "You're not my daughter! You'll never inspire anyone like that!"

"But I have inspired people. Thousands of men and women fight for our cause. They want to better the world."

"But what you're doing isn't always right. Fighting against the Grimleal doesn't make you justified in everything you do."

"But it does. We are the future of humanity." Keith stepped even closer. "And you're coming with us. Archangel wants to see you, and she gets what she wants."

"Keith, we can be allies. You just have to treat us with some respect!"

"But you would never join if I let you go. Would you? You were happy to stay here when you needed medical attention, and you've taken our supplies and eaten our food, but when it's time to give something back, you wouldn't have joined us. You were going to leave. Weren't you? Farber saw you by the wyvern stables! You were going to fly out!"

"You can't treat us like this!"

"Hey, hey come on." Keith put his hand on Chrom's shoulder. "You and I? We can help the world together. We were destined to be together! As father and daughter!"

"Keith, stop!"

Keith suddenly exploded. He took several steps back and accentuated every word with an exaggerated body movement. "STOP WHAT?! **_STOP HHH-WHAAAT_**?! Stop trying to fight for humanity?! Is that what you want me to stop?! You want me to just roll over and wait for death like you've been doing?! Let me tell you something! Lucina was a warrior to the bone! She would never have stopped fighting, no matter how bad things got! It pains me to see that her father is so. _Gods_. _Damned_. _Soft_! We could be like heroes, of the kind that walked the earth thousands of years ago before the tumorous mass of this death worshipping cult that calls itself our government stunted it so! You and I! Together! We could save the world!" Keith walked back to Chrom and jabbed his finger in his chest. "You could still be a great warrior! I think your allies are holding you back. You could still be as strong as your daughter was. You could still be as strong as your father was. Did your father have allies like you do? No! Did Lucina? Not most of the time, and she was alone after coming back until she joined the Shepherds. Your father and daughter were much stronger than you, and they didn't have allies like you do. You know what I think? They're holding you back!" At this point Chrom's face was twisted with anger, but Keith pressed forward. He got so close that his and Chrom's face were almost touching, and he spoke in a soft growl. "These girls, they're holding you back? Aren't they?" Keith glanced to Soleil and Ophelia and nodded. "Archangel needs them taken alive. She wants to speak with them too. When she's done though, maybe I put them in their own cells. Maybe I pay them a visit myself."

"Keith." Chrom said in a menacing voice, as if he was trying to warn him to back off. Keith got even closer to him.

"Maybe they die under mysterious circumstances. Maybe when you're free of these parasites, you can finally be the warrior I know you can be." Chrom stared at Keith for a few seconds. He didn't say a word. He just stood and shook with barely contained fury until that rage became uncontrollable. Chrom drew his sword and tried to slash at Keith, but the civil patrol troopers by him grabbed his arms before he could. He yelled at Keith and still tried to run at him. Even as the civil patrol troopers held him back, he never turned to them. He looked Keith dead in the eye the entire time. Keith just took a few steps back and motioned to the troopers behind him. "Tranquilize them!"

"Err, Justicar?" Farber said sheepishly. "We only had the one dart. We figured Tiki was the most dangerous."

"Then take the others the old fashioned way."

Farber nodded and motioned for his troops to move forward. The civil patrol troopers prepared to detain the group, but everyone looked up in the sky as the sun seemingly began to darken. They realized an object was blocking it. "The hell?" Soleil said. "Is that… it's her!"

"Who?!" Chrom asked. The answer very quickly became clear as what seemed to be a large bird swept downwards and over the heads of everyone present. Chrom looked up to see that it wasn't really a bird. It was a Pegasus. Cordelia's Pegasus. The animal flew downwards and dived towards the group, and atop her was an armored woman with flowing red hair. The civil patrol troopers panicked and discharged their arquebuses at the woman, but she effortlessly dodged their frantic shots. She swooped down and cut several of them down, inflicting non lethal but incapacitating wounds. The woman made another pass before attacking again. This time she felled all of the civil patrol troopers. Keith himself was spared only because he dodged at the last moment, and Farber was knocked from his horse. At this point the woman finally landed. Her Pegasus reared up in front of Chrom and his companions, cutting them off from the Arch Surg. Aurora extended her wings and screamed, almost roared, while kicking at the Arch Surg forces. At this point everyone could finally get a good look at the woman that she was carrying. This woman had a short skirt and long boots, typical for Pegasus Knights, and a headband that resembled the one Cordelia had once worn. Segmented red plate armor, similar to what soldiers from Chon'sin wore, protected her shoulders. She wore little other armor, instead wearing a simple but elegant dark red and white dress.

"It's Caeldy!" Ophelia squealed. "She's… she's so _cool_!"

Soleil stared at her intently. "Oh damn! That is the sexiest thing I've ever seen!"

Gaius stepped closer to Chrom without looking away. "Just like her grandmother, huh?"

Chrom himself was almost too stunned to respond. "Yeah." He slowly became enveloped by pride. "Just like her."

Caeldori briefly glanced back at everyone to make sure they were okay, then pointed her lance at Keith and the civil patrol troopers. "STEP AWAY FROM MY FRIENDS! NOW!" Her voice boomed. Everyone but Keith and Farber seemed to be on the verge of panicking.

"It's a Valkyrie!" A frightened civil patrol trooper cried out. Keith stepped forward and drew his sword.

"Quiet! It's just a woman!" Keith stormed forward, ignoring Aurora's attempts to kick at him. "You're in no position to make demands! We have you outnumbered!"

"I've felled your troops!"

"Have you now?" Keith nodded towards something behind them, and the group turned to see Pheros approaching with the city's regular garrison. Her troops were far more heavily armed and armored than the civil patrol troopers, and they quickly leveled their arquebuses and bows at the group. Pheros gave Chrom in particular a devious smile.

"Well, Prince Chrom. Look how things have changed. Once you trapped my garrison in Fort Steiger before Walhart's forces could reinforce me. Now you're trapped by my forces. Fortunes do change don't they?"

Chrom whispered in Gaius' ear. "Do you still have a smoke bomb? Like the one you used at Cordelia's homestead?"

"Yeah. You're not… you can't do that!"

"We don't have a choice! Light it. I'll distract them." Chrom walked forwards until Pheros' soldiers trained their weapons on him specifically. "You haven't forgotten what happened thirty years ago?"

"Of course not. The flag may be different, but the cause is the same. I fought to better humanity, as I do now. I'll never forgive you for what you did to Walhart."

"But he joined my Shepherds. He believed in the cause of Robin and I more than he did his own!"

"Quiet! You tricked him! You forced him into joining you!"

"You know that's not true."

Keith walked towards the group, and Gaius turned his back to him to hide his smoke bomb. It meant exposing it to Pheros, but she was too distracted to see it. "Pheros! Stop talking to him and detain him already!"

Pheros was too incensed to heed Keith's words. "Walhart had a great vision! He would never abandon it willingly! You must have done something to him! You forced him to fight with you!"

"He joined us willingly! He was alive, Pheros. He was alive, and he chose to abandon his empire. He didn't even remember you!"

"I was his trusted ally!"

"You were nothing to him!"

Pheros was shaking with frustration. "Silence him!" She roared to her forces. Keith had to run up to them and wave his arms around.

"No! Ignore that order! We need them alive!"

Chrom turned to Gaius and was relieved to see that his smoke bomb was almost ready. Gaius whistled at Keith, and he gave a cheeky grin when he turned around. "So long, sucker!" He hurled the bomb at Keith and grabbed Soleil to shield her. Chrom did the same with Ophelia. Pheros had her horse rear up and out of the way, and Keith just glared at the bomb.

"Hope will never die!" He yelled in a squeaky voice as the bomb went off in front of him. Chrom and the group tried to flee towards Farber, but he managed to draw his tome and fire blasts of lightning to keep them pinned. Caeldori tried taking to the skies again, but Pheros charged at the group. She drew a sword and ran at Chrom, but Caeldori warded her off. Farber took the opportunity to hurl a lightning bolt at Caeldori, and it struck her with enough force to knock her off of her Pegasus. Pheros charged at Chrom again, but he had time to raise his Falchion and slash at her horse. Pheros went tumbling to the ground, and her horse panicked and kicked at Aurora before running away. Aurora herself seemed to panic and trotted off. Gaius tried to run in and fire his pistols at Pheros, but in his drunken daze all of his shots missed.

"Argh! Why can't one of you bullets stick a landing!" One of the Arch Surg soldiers ran at Gaius, but he activated his pistol sleeve and aimed his holdout pistol at her. He fired, but his aim was almost a meter off target. The soldier did a double take at the widely innacurate shot before striking Gaius with the hilt of her sword. "Oh. Ow. This has got to be my third or fourth most humiliating defeat. Erp, ow! Definitely top five."

Meanwhile Ophelia tried to fend of Farber with blasts from her Missiletainn tome, and the two engaged in a magical duel of sorts. Farber initially seemed to be driven back, and Ophelia pressed her advantage, but it was actually a ruse. As soon as Ophelia was several meters away from her companions, Farber responded with powerful blasts that Ophelia couldn't defend against. He smiled and readied an electrical blast as Ophelia fell to her knees. "This is how we brought the pain in my day, kid!" Farber unleashed a lightning bolt into Ophelia, hitting her with a deafening noise that drowned out everything else for a brief moment, and sending her to her back. Farber ran up and kicked her in the knee before she could recover.

Soleil tried to help, but Keith ran at the group with his sword drawn. Overcome by rage at everything he had done to her and her friends, Soleil moved to confront him. Keith raised his weapon. He coughed up a bit of smoke every few seconds, but was otherwise unfettered by the chaos unfurling around him. "Slink back to your mother's house! You are but a mercenary, and you face a lord. A laaawrrrd!"

"Yeah well… you're ugly! And your outfit sucks!"

"Her outfit was infallible!" Keith ran at Soleil and the two were briefly locked in a bitter bout. Soleil's basic skills weren't able to overcome Keith's proficiency with his weapon, but Soleil was saved by a recovered Caeldori. She almost stabbed Keith in her back before he dodged, but she was able to thrust her lance up and cut Keith along the face. Keith himself was unharmed. Rather, much like what had once happened to Lucina herself, his butterfly mask was sliced in two. Keith fell to his back and fumbled around his face. Caeldori and Soleil pointed their weapons at him, but he didn't seem to notice. Keith spasmed and furiously looked around until he found what remained of his mask. He started hyperventilating. "My face."

Caeldori brought her lance to his neck. "Tell your forces to leave us alone!"

Keith ignored her. "You broke my face."

"What?!"

"You broke my **_FAAAAACE_**!" Keith shot up and lunged at Caeldori. She was so stunned at his seemingly suicidal boldness that she didn't react, and Keith was able to grapple with her. He fought like an enraged toddler. He didn't so much punch at her as he did claw at her. He pulled her hair, tried gouging at her eyes, and even bit her cheek at one point. He finally managed a hit on Caeldori's neck that sent her to the ground, and Soleil ran at him and tried to swipe at him with her sword. Keith responded with some bestial noise that unnerved Soleil so much that she could do nothing but stand and stare at him. He shot forwards and head butted her with enough force to shatter her nose. Soleil went down with blooding pouring from between her fingers as she grabbed her face, and Keith turned his attention to Caeldori again. "My face! I'm nothing without my face!" He yelled as he swiped at her.

Pheros was still down from falling off her horse, and Chrom tried to run up and attack her. Pheros swept out his feet however, and the two rose and readied their swords. "I'll never forget what you did to Walhart!"

"He attacked us! I had to fight him!"

"He wanted to build a better future for humanity! He wanted a world where everyone would be at peace. No more killing because of religion, or flags, or class differences. Humanity would finally be united as one! Come then. Allow me to show you that the strength of his empire still lives, even in dissolution!" Pheros and Chrom dueled. Chrom was far stronger and more skilled, but Pheros was faster. She was able to hold out long enough for Farber to strike Chrom in the back with a lightning bolt. Pheros quickly disarmed Chrom, and Farber grabbed him and pinned his arms. Pheros approached him. "Now you're at our mercy, prince." She punched him in the stomach. Farber smiled sadistically as he held him still, and Pheros mercilessly struck him over and over again. "You claimed that your ideology was right, and that we were wrong! All you did in the end was enforce the rule of an elitist aristocracy! Walhart didn't inherit his position! He didn't get it through entitlement! He built his empire through force of will! He wanted to make a society where the working classes could rise through merit! No more corruption! No more decadence! No more oppression under an ancient regime! You ruined everything! You weren't a hero! You were just an enforcer for inbred nobles and landowners who lorded over the common man! You're just a bourgeoisie parasite!"

Pheros struck Chrom until he was bloodied, then Farber let go of him so that he could strike him in the face. Chrom was sent to the ground, and he desperately tried to grab at his Falchion. Farber stepped on his right hand with his armored boot, crushing his fingers. "That was for Walhart!" Farber and Pheros looked around to see that everyone was down at this point. The only person still fighting was Keith. He continued to kick and strike at Caeldori, who had long since passed out from the pain.

"You broke my **_FAAAAAACCCEEE_**!"


	21. The Hearts and Minds

On a hill overlooking Ylisstol stood Dartsmoth and the twelve Deadlords that followed him. He put his hands on his hips and smiled. "And so begins my job to capture Chrom and Caeldori… oh, and to kill those other bogans. Now you might be wondering why I'm here in Ylisstol. After all, the Grimleal control this city. The answer is simple. To find a bloke, you have to understand how he thinks. I'll ask the people of the city old enough to remember Chrom and Emmeryn about them, and I'll get a good idea of what he's like." Dartsmoth turned to Mus. "Pretty brilliant huh?" Mus didn't say anything. From what Dartsmoth had read about the Deadlords, Mus seemed to be the leader. None of the Deadlords ever spoke, and they only acted when someone gave them orders, but Mus always stood in front. Dartsmoth had also read that Mus was usually male, but the Mus in front of him seemed to be female under all that armor. None of the Deadlords reacted to Dartsmoth. They all just gave him a blank stare. "Ugh. Why don't you fruit loops rack off. I need to gather information from the people in the city, and nothing will come good with you mute lunatics hanging over my shoulder." The Deadlords continued to just stare at Dartsmoth until he snapped. "Did you not hear me?! I said bugger off you shonky, stickybeak, drongos!" The Deadlords finally turned and left, and Dartsmoth shook his head in frustration. "Those Deadlords are really starting to freak me out! May all their chooks turn to wyverns and kick their dunny doors down to the grass. Ratshit diggers. I swear to Naga, I get the weirdest people transferred to my command. If it was raining virgins I'd be washed down the drain with a dog."

Dartsmoth made his way through the town and strolled through the streets, looking for someone at least fifty years old. He eventually found his target in a late middle aged woman, walking through the markets with her granddaughter. Dartsmoth threw his cigarette down to the ground, extinguished it with his boot, and approached the woman. She tensed up when she realized he was walking towards her, and Dartsmoth's only reaction was to adjust his sunglasses and give her a sinister grin. "Hey there, Sheila! Might I have a word?"

"Wha, who are you?" She asked as she gently pulled her granddaughter behind her.

"I'm a bloody book binder from Begnion. You don't need to know who I am."

The woman looked Dartsmoth up and down and froze. "You… you're with the Grimleal! Aren't you?!"

"Aw I stick out like the dog's balls with this robe. Yeah you got me. I'm a ridgy-didge member of the machine. Now I have a few questions for you. Don't even think about coming the raw prawn at me, mate. I'll give you the rough end of a pineapple."

"W-what?"

Dartsmoth took a deep breath. "Agh! Why don't people in this continent speak properly? You all have such strange names for things. Like, you call fizzlesnappers 'firearms', or you call meat water 'gravy', or you call snuggle rooting 'sex', or you call slippery dippery long wanglers 'snakes'. I don't understand your foreign vocabularies! Right. Hmm, let me try using the local vernacular. Erm… howdy pardner! I know you may have some misgivings 'bout little old me, but I ain't no fink, ya dig? Did… did that make sense?"

"What?!"

Dartsmoth groaned and looked towards the sky while leaning back for a few seconds. "Okay let me put it this way. I may barrack for the men in charge, but that doesn't mean I can't care about the little people." Dartsmoth walked over to the merchant the woman had been speaking to. "Now what was the lady trying to buy?"

"Uh, a small stuffed toy." The man said in a nervous tone. Dartsmoth reached into his robe and pulled out a sack of gold coins. He took out a handful and slammed them onto the counter.

"Will this cover it?"

The man was still wary of Dartsmoth, but his eyes lit up. "Erm, s-sure!"

Dartsmoth took the stuffed toy and handed it to the woman's granddaughter, who was clinging to her leg. "There ya go, anklebiter." Dartsmoth rose to his feet. The woman was still afraid of him, but she also eyed the sack of coins in his hand. Dartsmoth tossed it into the air once. "Now was there anything else you two needed? Want something to eat? I'm buying, but only if you give me some good dinner conversation."

* * *

Kilometers away from Nowi Falls, where the desert began to meet the edges of the badlands, the Arch Surg convoy slowly made its way forward. Multiple supply carriages were being escorted by dozens of armed soldiers, and wyvern patrols circled overhead. Inside several of the carriages were the Justicar's prisoners. For the most part they were all kept separate and under watch. Gaius and Ophelia were together. Their hands were bound, and they had been stripped of weaponry, but even then a guard was inside of their carriage. Cervantes was intended to keep watch over them, but he had dozed off not long after leaving Nowi Falls. He still hadn't woken up.

"Hey, Gaius?"

Gaius looked up to see Ophelia looking at him. She had been quiet most of the ride, staring down at her feet and her bandaged knee. Now she seemed scared. Gaius wanted to alleviate her concerns somehow, but he didn't think she felt any more secure around him. "Blondie?"

"We… we're going to be okay? Right?"

Gaius took a deep breath. "I don't know, but we can handle whatever happens."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. As long as Chrom is here to lead us."

Ophelia smiled a bit. "You trust him then? I thought you hated him."

"What happened thirty years ago… it's hard. I… I can't forgive him. I just can't." Ophelia's expression grew more worried, but Gaius smiled at her. "But I see now that he wants to make things right. Things between us may never get better, but I believe that he can still help people. He won't abandon us."

"Thank you. That does make me feel better."

"He seems to care about you and your friends. You're probably just replacements for the Shepherds in his mind, but that doesn't make his love any less genuine."

"He… loves us?"

"He doesn't have anyone else."

Ophelia looked down and smiled. "Well I love him. I don't… have anyone else."

"That's why I can't forgive him, Blondie. He took my family away. Hang on to the family you have, because you never know when they'll be taken from you."

"Yeah. I know what that's like." Ophelia looked back to Gaius. "Do you think he loves you too?"

"This is getting weird, Blondie."

"Right. Sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For how we met. What I did to you wasn't right. I want to protect you now. I don't really know you, and I don't forgive Blue, but damn… against my better judgement, he's inspired me again. I can't let the world be like this anymore. I see you girls and your determination, and I realize what I've become. As an assassin I was really just turning away from the world and what it was becoming. I was afraid to try and make a difference. I'm not going to let innocents get hurt anymore."

"Thank you." Ophelia felt hopeful for a moment, but she became unnerved as Gaius continued to stare at her. "Err, can I help you?"

"Oh, sorry. It's just that you look so much like your grandmother."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Now I've made it weird."

Ophelia jumped up in her seat. "Hey! I know! We should name your weapons!"

"Huh?"

"Every good weapon needs a name!"

"Does your tome have a name?"

"Yeah! Behold, Missiletainn of PURGATORY! Enemies will be frozen in an icy gale by my holy power! The power of the stars flows through me like a divine wind! Enemies who face me will be blown away by the power of… of a divine wind!"

"Missiletainn? Where did you get that name?"

"My mother gave me a book that she said came from my father. It was filled with scribbles and notes, and I saw that name in the margins."

"It seems kind of silly."

"Could you do better?" Ophelia said, somewhat offended. "How about your arquebus. What's that called?"

"I uh, don't have a name for it."

"Well you should come up with one!"

Gaius thought for a second. "Hmm. How about… rooty tooty point 'n shooty."

"What?! That's not a name!"

Gaius smiled at Ophelia's disdain for the name. "Rooty tooty point 'n shooty it is!"

"NO! It needs a real name!" Ophelia angrily crossed her arms and thought about it, but her face lit up when inspiration struck her. "I've got it! The Sunspitter!"

"What?"

"Because it spits out fire and heat at your enemies, like the sun itself. Behold! The heavens themselves will be split asunder by the thundering blast of the Sunspitter! Let the stars quake! Let time itself shout. The Earth will move and rock! A column of light will outshine the sun when the Sunspitter fires!"

Gaius chuckled. "I'll keep it in mind."

Meanwhile in another carriage, Caeldori sat with her hands bound together. The Arch Surg treated the injuries she had taken, but Keith had badly savaged her. Much of her face was bruised and cut. She had been deprived of her normal attire and instead wore tight undergarments, yet so much of her body was covered by bandaging that her normal clothing left more skin exposed. The guard watching over her was Pheros, and her very light blue eyes carefully monitored everything Caeldori did. She certainly took her job of monitoring her prisoner more seriously than Cervantes did. Caeldori in turn shot her a defiant glance, but as the hours went by she couldn't maintain it. She glanced around in boredom, and fell asleep at one point. When she woke up she found Pheros still studying her. Caeldori just couldn't take the silence anymore. "So… is this where you saw your life going?"

Pheros leaned back and seemed to think about what Caeldori was trying to do. "What do you mean?"

"You call yourselves heroes because you fight the Grimleal, but now you're torturing us, people who also fight against the Grimleal. How is this justified?"

"Not everyone who fights the Grimleal is heroic. Even brigands and psychopaths fight against the Grimleal. We don't just want to defeat the Grimleal. We want to rebuild human civilization. That means stopping people who are a threat to the world."

"How are we a threat?!"

"Maybe you aren't, but we have orders from Archangel."

"So you just follow orders?" Caeldori asked condescendingly. Pheros just stared at her for a few seconds.

"Caeldori, is it?"

"That's right."

"I'm going to take this conversation in a different direction. Why is there anything at all?"

"W-what?"

"Why is there anything at all? Why are there birds? Why are there rocks? Why are there mathematical equations? Why is the sun there? Why is the moon there? Why is all the universe there? Why does anything exist at all?"

"I… I don't know how to respond to that."

"It's not a trick question."

"I don't think there's a reason for it all. It's just the way it is."

"So you don't believe in a divine creation?"

"No. There are no gods. The Dragons were very powerful, but even they are not gods. They do not posses the powers of creation. Tiki told me that herself."

Pheros smiled. "I agree. I used to worship Naga and the Earth Mother, but I have abandoned my faith. I now see how illogical that faith is. Even if a divine being created all of the universe, that is not an answer for where it all came from, or why it exists. After all the divine being would have its own creator, and what would that be? Is there an infinite string of divine beings creating each other? Did random chance give birth to a divine being, so that it was the product of a natural selection of sorts even if we weren't? I say the question is illogical. If the universe had no beginning, then it's non-existence was never an option. Think of it this way. Either the universe has a beginning or it doesn't. If it has a beginning, then even a divine creator would need a beginning. The divine creator itself is not an explanation for why the universe exists. If the universe has no beginning then there is no need for a creator, as the creation has always existed."

"I uh… huh."

"How would you answer the question? Why is there anything at all?"

Caeldori wasn't at all sure what to say, but she did give the question some thought. "I, well uh… err… I don't… I-I don't think there is a reason. Things just exist. The universe just is. We make our own significance in life."

Pheros slowly nodded. "I didn't ask anything about significance. I only asked why you think anything exists. I like your answer though. There is no meaning to our brief existence in this continuance. We have to make our own significance. We have to give our lives meaning. Let me tell you about my life, Caeldori. I was born to a merchant family in a small town, though it was near a larger city. My parents were far from wealthy, but we were more well off than most peasants. We never worried about food, and we could sometimes save up for luxuries."

"Where is this going?"

Pheros ignored her. "As I child I was taught that the nobility was just and kind. We all worked for them and dedicated our lives to them because they would protect us and guide us. They were supposed to care about us and ensure our prosperity. This is the basis of feudalism. The working classes are bound to the nobles. We support them, and in turn they help us. We work their lands, fill their cities with trade and commerce, and fight in their armies, and in turn they provide us with opportunities to make a living. Specifically they provide us with the opportunity to work their land. The opportunity to make them money. The opportunity to fight in their armies. We are tied to them, but we do not need them. The working classes provide everything that society needs, and the nobles reap the rewards. The nobility keep us tied to them to control us. They don't act in our interests. The great fantasy of history isn't that strong men and women exist, for there have been many heroes of legend. No the fantasy is that the lords and nobles care about the common man. The system is rigged."

"What does this have to do with your childhood?"

"I didn't want to follow in my parent's trade. We lived well enough, but I wanted an education. I wanted to learn about the world. My family saved up for years. I even had to become a merchant for a few years to help save up. Finally though, I was able to afford tuition for university, but no university would accept me. Their official reason was because I didn't have the prerequisite knowledge. Where was I supposed to get that? I realized that it was only for the nobles. Only the nobility could have access to the tutors. The nobles restrict access to education to control us."

"So what did you do?"

"I took the only opportunity I had to get an education. I became a priestess. It was a religious education, but it was an education nonetheless. At the time I truly embraced religion. It gave me a meaning and purpose in life I had never felt before. I even made a pilgrimage to the Halidom of Ylisse to hear Emmeryn speak because she had holy blood, and because I wanted to visit the continent that Naga and the Earth Mother had come from. I thought that religion would give me meaning in life, but that was before Walhart."

"You were one of his generals? Right?"

"I had never fought a battle before I joined Walhart, but I had to be a part of his movement. I remembered how afraid I was when his forces first came through my city, but then I heard him speak. This was no petty despot. This was no greedy third born son who had something to prove. This man really wanted to better humanity. It was then that I realized why I followed my religion. I thought it gave me significance in life, but Walhart showed me a better way. I could actually fight to better humanity. Walhart may have died, but his dream lives on. The Archanean Liberation Front can achieve a better future, for all of us."

"So you don't just mindlessly follow orders." Caeldori leaned in. "You mindlessly follow the orders of dead men!"

"No, Caeldori. Back then I was swept up in Walhart's beliefs. When he was defeated, and I regrouped our forces with other surviving Valmese generals, I realized that I would have to fully understand my own beliefs. I know how to help the world now."

"How? Do you even know? I think the Arch Surg use rhetoric to justify violence and depravity!"

"The Archanean Liberation Front will create a better world. It stands to reason that the necessity of the existence of the privileged order, a group of enlightened nobles who must rule over the common man, is a fallacy. The nobility declares that without help from this order all the arduous tasks in the service of our civilization would go unfulfilled. Not only is this a lie however, but without this privileged order the higher posts could be infinitely better filled by those rising to the posts through strength and merit rather than through birth. The fact that the privileged have succeeded in rising to these posts is a hateful inequity towards the generality of citizens and an act of treason to our fellow man. Who is bold enough to maintain that the people, particularly of the working classes, do not have within themselves everything needed to constitute a nation? The working classes are men and women with their arms in chains! If the privileged order was removed, the chains would be broken. The working classes would be free. Our society would not be something less but something more! What is the working class then! All! All, but an all that is fettered and oppressed! Nothing would go well without working men and women, but everything would go considerably better without the privileged order. It is not enough though to show that the privileged weaken our nation. We must prove further that they have no place in our society at all! They are a burden to civilization, NOT part of it!"

"I…" Caeldori awkwardly shifted around. "I don't know. I think you make some valid points, but you're talking about tearing down society."

"So were you. You were fighting against the Grimleal. We will have to rebuild society. Will you argue in defense of feudalism? You are a Pegasus Knight after all. The Pegasus Knights have long been enforcers for a landed elite. You're part of the feudal system."

"I'm not a Pegasus Knight yet."

Pheros leaned forward. "What do you know of dialectics, Caeldori?"

"Hmm?"

"I hold no delusions of knowing exactly how society should be rebuilt. I would be interested in hearing your criticisms of my views. I present a thesis, and you counter my arguments. This gives rise to the antithesis, which contradicts the thesis. Together we can merge the strengths of our views to form a new view, the synthesis."

"I think you're all dangerous."

"Well that's not an unfair view. We do have you in chains after all." Pheros sat back. "But revolutions are not civilized. People have to be swept out of the way. Humanity fought to take the world from the Dragons. The Hero King fought to stop the Dolhrian Empire. Alm and Celica fought to save the world from Duma. The First Exalt fought to defeat Grima. You can look down on them for their violent methods, but you still reap the rewards of their fight. Violence is necessary to change society."

In yet another carriage, Soleil was held with Vasto as her guard. Vasto was clearly racked with guilt over how things had happened, but he didn't disobey his orders, and so Soleil had no forgiveness for him. She sat in silence, her smile replaced with a scowl almost comical in its intensity. Vasto tried looking away from her, but she never stopped glaring at him. Vasto had to turn away whenever he looked at her until he finally spoke up. "Please stop staring at me like that!" Soleil responded by sticking her tongue at him, then returned to her grimace. Vasto seemed to accept defeat for a second, but then he thought for a moment. "You know, this reminds me of a story."

"I don't want to hear your stories." Soleil snapped. She tried to sound as gruff as she could, but her voice still came across as high pitched.

"But I think this one is relevant to our situation. When I was a boy, there was another boy in my village who befriended a wyvern. He went everywhere with that wyvern. They were very close. It's what inspired me to be a wyvern rider."

"I don't want to hear your story!"

"Everywhere the boy went, people would remark on how spiky his wyvern was. I mean that thing was covered in spikes. It must have been older, or maybe it was just a deformity, but that thing was just covered with spiky growths. The boy couldn't even hug his wyvern because it was so spiky."

"What is the point of this?!"

"So one day some merchants come into our village. When this older man sees the boy's wyvern, he remarks on how spiky it is. In fact he tells the boy that there are contests for spiky wyverns. If he entered the contests, he could win fame and fortune. The boy and his family left to compete in the contest after that. I never saw him again for several months, but I heard about what happened."

"Shut up!"

"First the boy went to a small regional competition. The judges were blown away by how spiky his wyvern was. They called it the spikiest wyvern they'd ever seen. The boy easily won the contest, so then he went on to a provincial contest. Once more his wyvern was far more spiky than any other wyvern. At this point the boy was known throughout Plegia. He entered another contest to decide the spikiest wyvern in all of western Plegia, and he won again! By now the boy was a sensation!"

Soleil found herself fixated on the story. "So what happened?"

"So finally the boy enters a national competition to see who has the spikiest wyvern in all of Plegia. The boy is well known. The audience cheers for him, and even Gangrel had spoken of the boy's wondrous wyvern. Why even representatives from Ylisse, Ferox, and Valm were there. Stories of this spiky wyvern had spread across the land."

"Really?!"

"Oh yes. The whole world came to see this boy and his legendary wyvern. It was as if all humanity, if but for a moment, had put aside its arbitrary, tribalistic differences to come together over this boy and his wyvern. I heard it was beautiful."

"Wow. So how did the competition go?"

"So finally it was time to begin the competition. The wyverns are all lined up, and the judges carefully inspect every single one. After looking at every other wyvern, the judges come to the boy's wyvern. The whole crowd goes silent. The judges look at the wyvern for several minutes, discuss with each other, and then walk over to the boy. The lead judge steps forward and says… he's not that spiky."

Soleil was frozen for a few seconds before her face gradually twisted with frustration, but then she had to fight back the urge to laugh. "H-he's not that s-spiky?! T-that's… I can't… I-I… BWA HA HA! He's not that spiky! H-holy blood that's, that's, HA! Bwahaha!"

Vasto smiled, finally free of Soleil's sour expression. "Get it?"

"Y-yes! I-It's a long buildup, in the form of a serious anecdote, with a p-punchline that doesn't j-justify the l-length! That's hilarious!"

"You don't have to explain the whole joke."

"BWA HA HA HA-" Soleil finally got a hold of herself and resumed her bitter expression. "I'm still mad at you."

"Hey are you cold in here?"

"What? Is this another-"

"Do you know why the coliseum was so cold? Because it had a lot of fans!"

"F-fans?! S-stop!"

"What do you call an alligator in a vest? An in-vest-agator!"

"N-no!" Soleil's lips almost seemed to wiggle. "I'm still mad at you!"

"What do you call fake noodle? An impasta!"

"Naga help me." Soleil whimpered through irregular breathing. "I'm trying to stay mad here."

"Why did the doughnut maker quit his job? He got tired of the hole thing."

"The hole thing?! Mmm, son of a- HA! HAHAHA! S-stop!"

"Why do buffalo stampede? Because they want to be herd!"

"STA-HAH-AP!"

"Or because they herd a noise!"

"Y-you're killing me!"

Above the two, the driver glanced down at the carriage nervously. Soleil's laughing was distorted through the carriage walls, and to him it sounded like horrible screaming. "What are they doing in there?"

* * *

The supply convoy eventually made its way through the desert and into the dry, arid terrain of the badlands. From there it pressed forward towards a hill, with a settlement built at the top. Leading the convoy was Farber, and the soldiers at the front of the convoy were all under his command. The vast majority of them had never seen Walhart's Empire, and most were too young to have even been alive back then, but Farber had filled their heads with romanticized tales his conquests, and so they had become quite dedicated to an empire they had never known. "Come on boys and girls! We have time for one more before we reach the fort. Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song." Farber sang. "Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along! Sing it as we used to sing it fifty thousand strong, while we were marching through Chon'sin!"

The marching soldiers joined in. "Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee! Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free! So we sang the course from Castle Valm to the Mila Tree! While we were marching through Chon'sin!"

In the carriage behind Farber, Keith sat watching over Chrom and Tiki. Chrom was bound and gagged, and Tiki was absolutely coated with chains and metal bindings. She was still unconscious from what the Arch Surg had done to her, but Keith didn't want to take any chances if she woke up. Chrom was incapable of saying anything, but he wouldn't even if he could. He just sat in bitter silence and shot a look of burning, intense fury at Keith, who was sitting across from him. Keith just crossed his arms and stared back. Keith had worn his mask so long that the skin was around his eyes was lighter than the rest of him, and he also had acne there from not washing that part of his face. Keith's exposed eyes were a deep, dark brown, and they matched Chrom's own feelings and then some. To stare into Keith's eyes was to stare into a black hole, and in those eyes Chrom saw a hatred of all life. Though Keith claimed to want to help humanity, there was no compassion in those eyes. Chrom and Keith just glared at each other for so long that time seemed to lose meaning. The only thing around to remind Chrom of the outside world was the thundering noise the soldiers outside were making as they sang.

Eventually Chrom could feel the carriage going up a hill. The carriage stopped not long after reaching the top, and Chrom could hear heavy doors opening. The carriage moved again, but this time there was yelling and shouting as it stopped again. The doors to Chrom's carriage finally opened, and he looked over to see several swords and pikes pointed at him. Chrom turned back to Keith. "Get out." He responded.

Chrom slowly exited the carriage and was able to glance over to see Gaius and the girls also being lead away before the soldiers shoved him forward. Keith followed after him, but she didn't have Tiki taken out. Instead he closed the carriage door, and it was taken away. One of the soldiers removed Chrom's gag, and he immediately turned to Keith. "Where are you taking her?!" Chrom demanded. An Arch Surg soldier by him struck him in the back of the head.

"Never you mind that. Walk." Keith commanded. Chrom was put in a group with Gaius and the girls, and there was a brief moment of happiness as everyone saw each other again. It was brought to a swift end as the Arch Surg forces shouted at them and pushed them forward. Chrom glanced around to see that he was in some kind of fortress. Wooden walls tall enough to obscure the settlement's surroundings could be seen on all sides, and soldiers that hadn't been with the convoy darted around from task to task. Chrom couldn't see much else though, as a soldier would shove him forward if he looked around too much. Keith lead the group to two men, who were waiting for him. They both stood at attention as Keith approached them.

"Justicar!" They both shouted. Both of the men were very old, younger than Farber but visibly older than Chrom, Gaius, or even Cervantes. Despite that, they were both large and muscular, and neither of them wore much clothing. One of the two stepped forward towards Keith. He had stark white hair, with a hairline that had receded to the point where it was only on the back of his head. Though fit, the man's posture was horrible, the man bending his head forward and hunching his back. He had a purple line running horizontally across his face. The man dressed like a brigand, except that he had massive red draconic skull of some kind with purple spikes coming out of it on his shoulder. "Justicar? You're not wearing your mask?"

"Silence, Algol!" Keith roared. He took several short and rapid breaths. "Mustafa! Take these five to the prison cells! Algol! Secure the seedlings from the convoy and place them in the nursery."

"Aww! Why can't I escort the prisoners?" Algol said with a devious grin.

"I don't trust you with prisoners. Not after last time."

"That was an accident! The prisoners tripped, and their necks fell on my blade."

"And they were accidentally reanimated into Risen?"

"Now you're getting it."

"Just go!" Keith intercepted a soldier that walked by, grabbing her arm and yelling at her. "And you! Get me one of my spare masks! I need a face!" The soldier nodded and Keith followed her out.

"Algol! Mustafa?!" Chrom exclaimed. "You've got to be jesting!"

Algol gave Chrom a grin that gave him unpleasant flashbacks to when they had fought thirty years ago. "So, you remember me do you?"

Chrom took a few steps back, and Gaius groaned. "Two more Plegians? Someone find Henry and Validar and we can get a cultural festival going."

"How are you still alive?!" Chrom barked. Algol laughed.

"Oh, poor prince. You thought you could just kill those who got in your way, but now you have most of our officer corps against you! Ha! Who is outmatched now!"

Gaius shook his head. "Hold on. You weren't just with Plegia. You were with the Grimleal! The Arch Surg is fighting the Grimleal."

Algol's menacing glee was replaced with actual sadness. "Yes. You see, when Grima was resurrected, it sacrificed the surviving members of the old Grimleal to regain its strength. Because you defeated me however, I wasn't there. I couldn't give my life for the Fell Dragon." Algol seemed pained, as if he was actually sorrowful that he hadn't been there. "When this new Grimleal took over the world for the Fell Dragon, they were suspicious of the old members. They're afraid of us. They only care about power. They distrust those who actually worshipped the Fell Dragon. They wouldn't let me back in!"

"Aww. How tragic." Gaius said dryly.

"They're nothing but petty despots! They lack the intellect and the purity to comprehend the glory of _gods_! I long to serve my master once more, but for now the Arch Surg appreciate my talents."

The other man scowled, clearly angered by what Algol was saying. This man had darker, tanned skin and a thick white beard. He was completely bald on the top of his head, and he had a scar going down his left eye. He was even more muscular than Algol and wore little clothing. "Algol! Why don't you follow the Justicar's orders! Secure the seedlings."

"Whatever, you overgrown bicep." Algol reluctantly walked away, and the man approached Chrom and Gaius.

"Well, well. So we meet again after all these years, Prince Chrom."

Chrom couldn't help but be unnerved, and Gaius slowly stepped behind him and gave Mustafa a sheepish smile. "Eh. No hard feelings? Right?"

Mustafa gave a sinister laugh. "Ah. Though I hate to say it, Algol was right. The power dynamic has changed. Now I have power over you. It feels… _good_."

The group became tense, and though they hadn't been addressed, the girls were nervous. Soleil hid behind Caeldori. "Err, just remember we didn't do anything to you! Spare us!"

Mustafa stepped back. "I assure you that no harm will come to you under my watch. When you bested me, Prince Chrom, I begged you to spare what remained of my men. Though this didn't end up being my last wish, you honored it. I don't believe in hurting unarmed prisoners, and I would never treat a man that has showed me such honor that way. Come with me. I will not hurt you, but I must follow the Justicar's orders."

Chrom stepped forward. "You claim to be a man of honor. How could you be with these people? They're horrible! They're violent!"

"Ha! You criticize others for violence. You were a man of violence, Prince Chrom. You did not defeat Gangrel by negotiating with him. Your life was defined by violence. Death. War. Suffering. How many men and women did you kill? How many families did you ruin? You think they were all mindless villains? You think none of them had parents? Children? Siblings? Spouses?"

"But… that's-"

"You thought you were doing the right thing? So do we. When we fought I had lost faith in Gangrel, and I watched in horror as the Grimleal took over Plegia afterwards. The Grimleal may have founded our great nation, but that doesn't mean our civilization has to be defined by them. Now I fight to liberate my people from the Fell Dragon. I fight for a cause I believe in. We are fighting for the good of humanity, even if our methods aren't always perfect." Mustafa turned. "Now come. I must take you to your cells."

Gaius nervously looked around. "So there really aren't any hard feelings?"

"No." Mustafa turned back and smiled. "In fact, because you showed me honor back then, I want to do something for you. Come. There's someone you'll be interested in meeting."

* * *

Mustafa took the group through the fortress. A handful of armed Arch Surg soldiers followed them, but not nearly as many as before. Mustafa didn't seem to take the group deeper into the settlement however. Instead he seemed to walk along the edge until he reached a robed man talking to a few other mages. The man turned and smiled at the group. He wore a long, dark robe. His hair was completely white, and he was middle aged, but he didn't look any older than Chrom or Gaius. He had a soft, friendly face, and he had an inviting smile. In fact the man seemed to be always smiling, like Soleil save that his smile seemed to be completely genuine. "Mustafa!" The man said in a cheery tone. "Bring me any more peaches?"

Mustafa laughed. "No, Henry. Not today. Only prisoners."

"Nya ha ha! Just in time! The other ones were getting too dead for me to continue my experiments. I have so many curses I want to try out!"

"Ah, Henry. When I'm around you it's as if my son never left me. No, these prisoners aren't to be experimented on."

"Oh, really? I was looking forward to it." The man had no menace in his voice. He spoke in a completely casual tone. "I'll never forget what happened to that one guy's eyeballs. Now he knows what the inside of his skull looks like. Nya ha ha! I was hoping I could try it again."

Mustafa stepped aside to reveal a stunned Chrom and Gaius. "Henry?!" Chrom cried out.

"Junior!" Gaius blurted.

Henry looked at the two. "Err, have we been acquainted?"

"You don't… remember me?" Chrom asked.

"Should I?"

Gaius was about to step forward, but Chrom held him back. Instead he just pulled back his sleeve on his work shirt to reveal his Mark of Naga. Henry looked at it and froze, his cheery expression replaced with a look of shock. "You. You… you live."

"Yes." Chrom was suddenly gripped with a wave of guilt as powerful as what he felt when he first saw Cordelia and Gaius again. He fell to his knees and stuttered. "Oh, Henry. I am so sorry. I… gods." Chrom fought back tears. "Please believe me. _I am so sorry_!"

"For what?" Henry said blankly. Gaius looked straight at him.

"For what?! For killing everyone! You gotta be kidding me! You don't remember?"

"Killing everyone?"

"When he killed your wife! When he killed your son!"

"Oh!" To the continued shock of both Chrom and Gaius, Henry's cheery expression returned. "Oh yeah! I remember. You got all mad and started chopping us up. Yeah I remember that now. Good to see you again! How's it been?"

Chrom was at a loss for words, and Gaius couldn't believe what he was hearing. "HOW'S IT BEEN?! That's all you have to say? Junior, he killed your wife and son!"

"Yeah that… that does bother me. I miss them sometimes… a lot of the time… most of the time actually." Henry perked up. "But it was so cool how you killed everyone."

"COOL?!" Gaius and Chrom both exclaimed.

"Yeah. Do you remember the looks on their faces as a man they loved and trusted so much hacked them into little bitty bits! Ha! T-the look on Sumia's face when you cut off Cynthia's arm, and then kicked it into her! I wish I could look at that forever! I tried to curse you but you dodged, and it hit Ricken. His eyes start to pop out of his head! Ha! I never laughed so hard in my life! HA! BWAHAHAHAHA!" Chrom and Gaius gave each other horrified expressions as Henry calmed down. "Anyways that's when you ran up to me and slashed me across the chest, or arms, or legs. I don't actually remember it that well."

"I didn't kill you?" Chrom asked.

"No. I thought I was hurt pretty bad, and I passed out. When I woke up I got up, stretched, walked around. Then I realized I wasn't actually that hurt."

"So now you're here?"

"Yep! The Arch Surg give me food, and a place to stay. They let me experiment on prisoners, and I get to blast people with curses. Pchew pchew! Nya ha ha! I also get to see Mustafa and Vasto again, although Vasto has gotten annoying in his old age. 'Henry you have to evacuate villages before attacking them! Henry stop cursing my wyvern! Henry stop making me hallucinate my dead mother!' He's no fun."

Chrom rose to his feet and stared into space. "I can't… I can't believe any of this."

"Yeesh, Junior. You were entertained by what happened to us?!"

"Why do you call him Junior?" Mustafa snapped. Gaius shrugged.

"It's my nickname for him."

"You will treat him with respect!"

"Okay then, Mr. Junior."

Henry turned to Mustafa. "It's okay. It doesn't bother me." He turned back to Chrom and Gaius and looked at them innocently. "Are you two still bothered by what happened?"

"YES!" Gaius roared. Chrom shook his head.

"I have thought about it every day for the past thirty years. I will never forget it."

"HA! HA HA!" Henry pointed at the two. "Your faces right now! Hilarious!"

Gaius became agitated. "Yeah well, well we have news that will get to you!"

"I doubt it. I'm not easily upset."

"Oh yeah? You don't think we can get to you?"

"Nothing bothers me."

"Oh yeah? Ophelia! Step forward!"

Everyone turned to Ophelia. "Wha-what? Why?"

Chrom gave her a strange look, but he calmed down and smiled at her. "Just do it. Please." Ophelia stepped towards Henry, who looked her up and down.

"Are you a mage too? Ooh, are you a dark mage?! We can trade experiments!"

"Ophelia. Show him your mark." Chrom said in a reassuring tone. Ophelia relented, and she pulled up her sleeve until her own Mark of Naga was visible. Henry was stunned, and his voice was flat.

"Where… where did you get that?"

"She's my grandniece, Henry."

"Your… grandniece?"

"Yes. This is Owain's daughter. This is Lissa's granddaughter. Henry… this is your granddaughter."

Ophelia turned back. "WHAT?!"

Henry fell silent, and Mustafa rushed in front of the group and began to push them away. "Well I should be getting them to their cells. We can talk to them more later."

Henry stared at them blankly as they left. "I still have… family?"


	22. The Disease of the Skin

Kilometers away from the Ylissean shoreline, just beyond sight of the coast, Aversa's flagship lumbered through the waves on its journey to bring the High Inquisitor to her task. Aversa's flagship, the _Matriarch's Vindication_ , was easily the largest ship in the known world. Built in Valm Harbor from resources gathered across the continent over a laborious one and a half years, the _Matriarch's Vindication_ was a galleon seventy five meters long, with a displacement of 2,800 tons. It was crewed by over one hundred and fifty people, and could carry an additional four hundred passengers. It was over sixty meters tall measured from the waterline to the ship's mast.

Having been built in Valm from shipyards commissioned by Walhart himself, it was only fitting that the ship be captained by a Valmese soldier from his empire. Captain Cassia was a middle aged woman with short, naturally gray hair, and a face strangely defined by both innately soft, kind features and features weathered and cracked by the stresses of a military career. Cassia was born a peasant, and though she longed to be a sailor, she had little chance before Walhart's rise gave her the opportunity. Cassia joined Walhart's navy as soon as it was founded. Through hard work and dedication she worked her way up to the captaincy of a caravel. Even then, Cassia was too low ranking to be deployed in the major naval engagements of Walhart's conquests, but this may have saved her life. She was left one of the most experienced sailors in Valm after Walhart was defeated and her superiors were killed, and so the Grimleal recruited her to oversee the construction of its own navy. Now the veteran sailor commanded the largest vessel in the seas.

But for all that, Cassia was not the most infamous or distinguished soldier on the bridge, and she was certainly not the most imposing. Standing by her side was Inquisitor Ascension, one of Aversa's inner circle. Like Dartsmoth, Ascension didn't hail from the Ylissean or Valmese continents. She was born in a subcontinent so remote that it was one of the last human civilizations subjugated by Grima. It was a place so remote that it didn't possess the complicated feudal civilizations of Ylisse or Valm, and was instead still divided into hunter gatherer tribes. Ascenion's tribe gave names that sounded more like poetic titles to other cultures, and she wasn't born Ascension. She was born Conception-Made-The-Sun-Shine-Dimmer, a name bestowed to her by her father after her mother died in childbirth. From an early age, Conception-Made-The-Sun-Shine-Dimmer strived to make a name for herself in the tribe, literally in the sense that she wasn't fond of her birth name. She proved herself a fearsome fighter, and so was made into a Holy Warrior, the highest honor in her tribe. This allowed her to take on a new title, and she chose the name Ascension to remind herself of a desire to become far more than what she started as.

When Ascension was sixteen, about eleven years after Grima was resurrected in the Ylissean continent, the Fell Dragon began its invasion of her subcontinent. Ascension and the other Holy Warriors were called upon to fight against the armies of Risen and Grimleal Enforcers, but Ascension didn't see doom in the Fell Dragon's arrival. She saw opportunity for something far greater. She betrayed her own people, and as such she earned a place in the conquering regime. Now she was one of Aversa's most trusted agents, and she was the highest ranking Inquisitor who couldn't use magic to save her life. Ascension's people had always valued physical strength, and she was no disappointment. She stood 2.1 meters tall. She had almost a third of a meter on Chrom, and Soleil's head wouldn't have gone up to her breasts. She dwarfed anyone else on the ship, and her arms were comparable in thickness to Cassia's thighs. When almost every other Inquisitor wore robes, Ascension wore armor of her own creation. It was pieced together from pieces of plate armor taken from slain foes, and the gaps were filled in by thick leather armor. At her rank Ascension could easily have armor crafted for her, but she much preferred to take trophies from her enemies. Ascension's armor was covered in sheathed throwing axes, and a war club almost as long as a normal sized woman was slung across her back. Her armor left her arms and legs exposed, and her feet were protected only by open sandals. All this skin was completely covered in black and blue tribal tattoos. Most of them had meanings only known to Ascension and her people, but the Mark of Grima was incorporated into the tattoos at eight separate occasions. Her head was covered by curly blonde hair that was raggedy and unkempt, save for a single braid by the right side of her face.

While Ascension's main motivation for joining the Grimleal was personal gain, she also had deeper, hidden feelings. Ascension's people were very spiritual, but she never had faith in their pagan gods. When the Fell Dragon came, Ascension saw it as the answer to humanity's quest for theological meaning, and she came to worship Grima as the Grimleal did under Validar. Since the Fell Dragon's resurrection, the Grimleal had went from a cult to a government, and many did not worship the Fell Dragon anymore. In fact those that did were looked upon strangely, and the few surviving members of the old Grimleal that still worshiped Grima were exiled. Many high ranking officials, including Gangrel and Aversa themselves, didn't trust them. Ascension always downplayed her beliefs when in the company of her superiors and equals, but she frequently made her zealotry clear to those she believed she had authority over. She also forced the soldiers under her command to share her beliefs, and over the years she had converted many of them.

"How much further must we sail, Cassia." Ascension stated in a brutish voice. "I tire of sailing."

"Don't have your sea legs yet?" Cassia responded as she watched the helmsman sail the ship.

"I am eager for my task, and I cannot enact the will of Grima while stuck on this ship."

"Well you can always get out and push."

Ascension loomed over Cassia. "I have a pure connection to the Fell Dragon and its divine will, and I am a servant of its holy might. I walk the blessed path, and it won't miss a worthless little life such as yours. Watch your tone, Valm born."

Cassia could physically do little to Ascension, but she wasn't about to be bullied on her own bridge. "I don't have time for your gobbledygook, savage."

Ascension got so close that her warm breath could be felt on Cassia's neck. "What you say is _heresy_."

Cassia turned to face Ascension, and the marines by her readied their weapons. "No one cares about your stupid beliefs! Grima is not a god! It's a boss! A commander! Let me ask you this. If Grima is divine, then why does it need agents like us?"

"A god that uses tools is still a god. It is not our place to question providence."

"How convenient. You have an answer for every hole someone pokes in your beliefs."

"I have a way with words." Ascension stepped back, but she loudly cracked her knuckles. "Among other things."

"Get off my bridge, Ascension."

The hulking holy warrior snarled and walked off. Meanwhile the High Inquisitor herself stepped out into the lower deck. Aversa's exact attire changed from day to day, but her outfits usually involved a lot of revealed skin, black, and elaborate decorations. Her current outfit was a bit less revealing than what she had once worn thirty years ago, but only because her body was so covered in jewelry, as well as a feather boa, pointless spikes similar to what Grima wore in the Hierophant's body, and a flowing black cape. Becoming humanity's co-ruler had done little to curb Aversa's vanity. She was quite proud of her appearance, even if she needed illusion magic to maintain it. Biologically she was pushing on sixty.

Aversa moved very carefully, as it wasn't easy to handle the swaying of a ship in heels. She eventually made her way to a mopey looking young man standing at the edge of the ship with his arms crossed, looking out into the sea. The man had white hair much like Aversa's and also had her tanned, almost grayish skin tone. He wore black and purple mage robes more complex than what most Grimleal agents wore, but they were modest compared to anything Aversa had. "Thallius!" Aversa cried out as she fumbled for the edge of the ship. "There you are! I looked all over the lower decks for you! You need to be where I can find you! I didn't have a ship built so that I could aimlessly wander around it."

"You could always lose the heels, mother."

"Well you could always lose the attitude, love."

"Ugh, sorry." Thallius said in a tone that was anything but apologetic. "I hate being cramped below deck. Gaawds. Leave me alone."

"Listen." Aversa grabbed her son's shoulder. "I don't need anything from you alright, but I do need to tell you something. We're about to reach land, and that means you're going to start helping with my mission."

"Sure. Thanks for telling me that ships eventually reach land. I thought maybe we'd go into the air!" Thallius said in a condescending tone. Aversa only looked tired in response. In her youth she had been quite skilled with her own snark, but her son's brute force attitude to it had worn her down over the years.

"Gah. Listen here, you now stand among the ranks of the Inquisitors. I know you're being a huge pain right now because no boy your age wants to be around his mother, but you need to be more professional. When I say to do something, you do it. That's not just true of me. If any other high ranking Inquisitor, like Altman, or Dartsmoth, or Al-Amin, or Thomas, or Ascension asks you to do something, then you do it. Understand?"

"Whatever. Gawds."

"Just… just go find your sisters. Tell them we're about to make landfall."

"Okay mother." Thallius said in an infuriating tone as he rolled his eyes and walked away. Aversa sighed.

"Now did I really need to have children?"

Meanwhile Ascension travelled below deck, to where many of her soldiers were staying. Among those men and women was Sentzke. Though most high ranking members of the Grimleal looked down on those that actually worshipped the Fell Dragon, the Grimleal had a few agents charged with inspiring people to convert, and to reinforce people's faith. These were the deacons, though they were rare and few officials allowed them. Ascension was one of those officials, and Sentzke was tasked with keeping her soldiers devout.

Sentzke was born to the same tribe that Ascension was from, and the two were distantly related. He was orphaned at a young age, and so the elders of the tribe named him. Traditionally orphans weren't given names until they were adults, and they were then given names based on their skills. After learning to live independently through manual labor, he was bestowed the name Barely-Lifts-Things. Barely-Lifts-Things shared Ascension's desire for a more significant life, and so went with her when she joined the Grimleal. Unlike Ascension, Barely-Lifts-Things never actually had a problem with his name, but members of the Grimleal in Ylisse and Valm would always give him strange looks when he tried to explain it.

Sentzke was a short, portly man. He had lilac hair that was receding at the top of his head, but he more than made up for it with a bushy beard that still had the remains of his lunch in it. He wore mage robes like many other members of the Grimleal, but he also had an elaborate white stole over them. Unlike most of the agents wearing his attire, Sentzke couldn't use magic at all. He preferred to let people think he could though, as in his experience they became a lot less polite after discovering his helplessness.

"Stand firm, my faithful! Though our war against the terrorists, rebels, and brigands that plague these lands is destructive, there is no need to fear. We need not worry about pain nor death, for we walk the blessed path. Grima's glory will spread across the world, propelling all who are worthy along the path to glorious salvation."

Sentzke was delivering his sermon to five teenaged girls, and they all looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. One finally shook her head. "What? What even is glorious salvation?"

"You know, salvation… that is glorious."

"I'm not buying it."

"Oh come on. It'll be great. Grima will give us cool stuff like, erm… food?"

"This is ridiculous."

"My word is true! I speak of divine and infinite glory!"

"What makes Grima divine at all?"

"Erm, well. It just is?"

"It just is?" The girl asked in a mocking tone.

"Well it's the size of a mountain, it flies around, it craps out zombies, and it can shoot lasers out of its bunghole. If that's not divinity than I don't know what is!"

"Who's to say there even is a Grima?!"

"What? People have seen Grima!"

"Maybe they just keep seeing birds."

"It's not a bird! People have spoken with the Fell Dragon!"

"Maybe they're making it up. Maybe it's all propaganda created by the Grimleal to keep us in line!" Sentzke didn't respond. He was paralyzed by nervousness as he saw Ascension walking towards the girl. "You know what I think? I think Grima is made up. It's just something the people in power use to scare us into doing as they say!"

Ascension walked towards her subordinate until she finally turned around to see her face, twisted with fury. "So? You say there is no Fell Dragon? You dare to suggest such a thing?"

The young woman was terrified, but not enough to silence herself entirely. "Well uh, it just doesn't seem like-"

Ascension grabbed her soldier by the throat and dragged her back towards the ship's bridge. Sentzke followed after her. He felt a need to try and save the soldier, but he couldn't muster the strength to actually say anything whenever he managed to catch up to Ascension, and so he ended up awkwardly stumbling after her as she made her way above deck. Ascension finally dragged the young woman to the bridge and threw her to the ground. In full view of everyone there, she drew her war club, shattered the woman's kneecaps with it, and then hurled her overboard. "HERESY!" She roared. The woman disappeared beneath the ship's wake, and did not resurface. Ascension then turned to a horrified Sentzke. "Be more mindful of your sermons, Sentzke. They're not _working_." With that, Ascension walked away, and Sentzke was left to his thoughts.

"Oh gods, oh gods! This deployment is going to get me killed!"

* * *

 _Gangrel paced back and forth, unsure of his words. In all the time since he had joined the Shepherds, he had never spoken more than a few words to anyone but Robin, and only because he had been so insistent on talking. He had no idea what Lucina thought of him, but she surely couldn't have had a high opinion of his actions. He crippled her aunt, maybe killing her in her original timeline, and antagonized her father so. Deep down he wondered if Lucina harbored a desire to strike him down, but he suppressed these fears. He had to talk to her. He just had to ask._

 _Eventually Lucina finally appeared and began to walk back towards her quarters, and Gangrel steeled himself to meet her. She quickly brought her head up at the sound of his footsteps, and she eased up only slightly at the sight of him. "Oh! Gangrel. I wasn't expecting anyone."_

 _"Sorry. I… didn't know when else I could see you."_

 _"Hmm? Is there something you need me for?"_

 _"I…" Gangrel looked down at his feet, and he shifted uncomfortably. Lucina eyed him suspiciously. "I… erm…"_

 _"What is this?" Lucina asked cautiously. Gangrel only briefly glanced back to her, but he could see she was about a second from turning around._

 _"Wait! Look, I know we don't speak much… at all really, but I… I have to ask you a question. Please."_

 _"Okay."_

 _Gangrel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. He looked Lucina right in the eye, but tried to maintain a non-threatening demeanor. "Why did you do it?"_

 _"Do what?"_

 _"You know! You know." Gangrel and Lucina both brought their eyes down this time, but Gangrel quickly looked back to her. "Why did you try to murder Robin?"_

 _Lucina was visibly uncomfortable, but she didn't back down. "So that's what this is then?"_

 _"I just, I'm sorry. After everything I've done to your family, I have no right to ask anything from you but please! I just don't get it! He's our leader. He's your friend! I thought you two were so close! Help me understand!"_

 _"I had to! You don't get it. Robin is the key to Grima's rise. If I killed him, then my future couldn't come to pass!"_

 _"But we're fighting to stop that, and we need him!" Gangrel tried to speak softly. "He's trying to help us. He cares about all of us, and he cares about you. How could you betray him?"_

 _"Because, because-" Lucina briefly ran her hands through her long hair in frustration. "I would do anything to prevent my doomed timeline from coming to pass. I would do anything to spare my younger self what I had to go through. It's not personal! I love him, almost as much as I love my own father! I didn't want to do it, but I thought I had to. If he died, then Grima couldn't be resurrected. I was trying to save everyone!"_

 _"So the ends justify the means? I thought that, you know. I thought that uniting the continent against Walhart was necessary, and I thought that anything I did to achieve that was justified. I was wrong. I became a monster. How… how is what you're saying okay? How could we betray our friends? They inspire us to fight. To keep going."_

 _Gangrel had gotten to Lucina, and her soft and stoic composure briefly snapped. "You don't have any friends, Mad King!" Gangrel took a few steps back, and Lucina tried to calm herself. "I… I can't… I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_

 _"No, I'm sorry. I just… I just needed to know why."_

 _Lucina stood up straight. "I don't have to explain myself." She looked Gangrel right in the eye. "Least of all to you."_

Some three decades after the conversation he was remembering, Gangrel stood in his trophy room. He was staring at his "Shepard Slayer" outfit hanging on the wall, and specifically his eyes were drawn to Lucina's cape, a trophy of her he seized from her corpse. "Oh Lucina. For so long you were just that freaky lady always talking about doom, but then I started to see connections between you and I. We both lost our parents at a young age. We both grew up having to fight to survive. We both wanted to help the world, and we were both willing to do anything to achieve those goals. Why did we turn out differently? Am I innately mad? Was it your friends? Did they guide you into a better person? Am I like this because I was… alone?" Gangrel looked down at his feet. "I miss… I miss… I miss your sword! That was my FAVORITE trophy!" Gangrel drew his Levin Sword, and in his fury magical energy began to crack out of it. It struck Gangrel's various trophies and sent them flying around the room. "When will Courtney bring me back my sword?! When will Courtney bring back Kryczek?! Why are my henchmen such idiots?!" Gangrel threw his sword against the wall, and a blast of magical energy arced off it and hit him in the chest. This only made him angrier, and in his rage he looked around, grabbed the Ragnell, and started swinging it against the wall. "WHY DOES NOTHING EVER WORK OUT FOR ME?!" Gangrel eventually damaged the wall to the point where he could walk through it and into the throne room. He violently slashed at the air until finally throwing the sword at a palace guard. It struck the soldier, but his heavy armor protected him, and even then the man didn't lose his professional composure. Gangrel's attendant walked into the throne room to find him breathing heavily.

"Rough day, milord?"

"GAAUUUGH!"

"I'm not sure what to make of that, milord. One more time?"

Gangrel walked over to his throne and sank into it. "What is it?"

"It's your wife, milord. She's on her way to speak with you."

Gangrel's expression was far from happy. "Oh no. I haven't had time to prepare. Why didn't you warn me?!"

"She didn't give me much warning, milord. It was a… spur of the moment thing for her."

"Gangrel!" A piercing voice shouted from outside the throne room. Gangrel recoiled at the sound of it, and the voice repeated itself. He could tell that it was getting closer to him.

"Ugh. What does she want now?"

Gangrel's attendant made his way behind Gangrel's throne, basically hiding behind him. "Good luck, milord."

Gangrel's young wife threw open the doors to the throne room a few seconds later and stormed towards her husband. She was a young woman no older than thirty with fair skin, light blue eyes, and curly blonde hair that went just past her ears. Though her attire wasn't on par with Aversa's in extravagance, it was easily more decadent, and it combined the styles of a number of cultures. She wore a tight dress of silk imported from Chon'sin, and her jewelry was from Valmese fashion. Her dress was adorned with decorations of Ylissean design, similar to what Maribelle had once worn, and the Mark of Grima was sewn into her dress at several points, though as it was made with bright blue fabric and was sequined, it was anything but intimidating. The young woman made her way past the palace guards, ignoring the fact that they all stood at attention for her, and stopped in front of Gangrel. "Do you have any idea, _any idea_ , what my hairstylist said to me?!"

Gangrel sighed. "No, dear."

" _That bitch_ said my hair was fraying. When I asked her why, she said a woman my age wouldn't have hair like that if she were taking care of it. She said I can't take care of my hair! How dare she?! _Mm mmm_. No one talks that way to me! My father may have raised me as a lady, but I will claw that bitch in the face if she talks that way to me again."

"Yes, dear."

"Who does she think she is? I'm the Empress! My husband pays your salary! I will have you on the street! That's what I should have said to her."

"Yes, dear."

"And another thing! Your daughter ruined another one of my dresses this morning! She spat up on it! The new handmaiden said she wouldn't throw up anymore, but she did! That woman is an idiot. Where is the old handmaiden?"

"Grima murdered her, dear. That's why we have the hole in the floor."

Gangrel's wife glanced over to the hole, and she also noticed the hole in the wall Gangrel had created a few minutes earlier. "What is that?!"

"Err, well-"

"Stop breaking my throne room! Don't tell me one of those stupid ghosts you keep seeing made you do it!"

"Well uh-"

"Agh! You know my mother exploded on me when I told her we were getting married! 'He's so charming.' I said to her. 'He's not crazy anymore.' I said to her. 'I'll be Empress this way' I said to her. She better not have been right about you! You are not going senile on me! Nuh uh. I am not raising two kids!"

"Yes, dear."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is raising Emmeryn?! You barely spend any time with her! I'm the one that has to order the handmaiden to do everything! Do you think you'll die before she's old enough to remember you? Is that it? How nice of you to just knock up the young woman and then die of old age before you have to do any child raising!"

"Sorry, dear."

"Let me tell you something, sweetie. If you get too old to rule than I will put you in a home. I will not wait on you hand and foot if that's what you're thinking."

"Yes, dear."

Gangrel's wife stomped her foot on the ground. "Do what I tell you to do! Talk to that stylist, talk to the handmaiden, and fix the hole in the floor and the hole you just created! Then get me some new dresses, or make our daughter less disgusting!"

"Yes, dear."

Gangrel's wife finally left the throne room, and Gangrel let out a long groan. His attendant stepped forward. "Lover's quarrel?"

"Agh! That woman! Why did I marry such a young woman? She's got so much more energy than me! I can't argue with her. She'll just wear me down."

"Oh come on, milord. What happened to that man who through sheer force of will not only survived in the slums of Plegia, but rose to become king? What happened to him?"

"He got whipped into submission. That's what happened to him."

"So you're saying you wish you had a woman Aversa's age?"

"Ooh. I don't know about that. It's just that… I'm old. I'm getting old." Gangrel sank further into his throne. "The other night, the two of us were lying together in bed, half asleep. I looked over to her. She was wearing lingerie. She was so beautiful, and all I could think about was… was finishing my snack and going to bed. You'd think marrying a young woman is all fun and games, but it's not. It just reminds you of your own frailty. Your own mortality. She's… she's right. I'm too old to have fathered a child. I'll die soon. I won't get to see Emmeryn grow up. I'll leave my babies alone, just like I was when I was younger." A tear rolled down Gangrel's cheek. "I have another twenty years at most, and that's nothing from Grima's point of view. Aversa has only a few more years in her than I do. When the two of us die, what will Grima do? Will it find new rulers, or will it stop sparing us? What will happen to humanity? What will happen to Emmeryn?"

Gangrel's attendant was unmoved. "Speaking of the High Inquisitor, I have news, milord. Aversa's ship has been spotted not far from the coastline. She'll likely be here within twelve hours."

"What?! Why is she coming?"

"Rumor is that Grima has given her Black Authority. She can appropriate anything of ours that she sees fit."

"Agh!"

"Look on the bright side, milord. Maybe she'll appropriate your wife."

"Oh gods damnit! Grima is sending her because it doesn't think I can kill Chrom and Ophelia! That's what this is! Aversa didn't tell me because she doesn't want me to hide my assets! Damn it!" Gangrel ran his hands through his hair. "Okay here's what we're going to do. We can't scramble to hide things because Aversa would get suspicious, but we can make one last attempt to kill those two. If I prove to Grima that I can carry out its will, then Aversa will go away, and I'll get my things back."

"You've tried before, milord. What will be different about this time?"

"I'm done sending assassins and enforcers. I'm sending an entire army this time! Let's see them get away from that. I need my most trusted officer. Where is General Rouchfort now?"

"He's leading his personal army, the Outriders."

"Contact him and have him transferred to the 2nd army. I need to send him out before Aversa gets here."

* * *

Deep within the Rockpile, two Grimleal soldiers stood in a guard tower overlooking the courtyard. Below them the prisoners went about their daily activities. In the distance was a fight of some kind. Two prisoners traded smuggled goods below the tower, and another was using a smuggled tool to pick at a weakness in the stone work. The two soldiers could see everything. They just couldn't be bothered to care.

"So the warden says I can have the time off for the holidays."

"Really? That's great."

"Wait get this. I can only have it off if none of the guards from before the riot ask for those same dates. He says they should take priority because they've been through a lot of trauma."

"So you won't even know until the last minute?"

"Nope. What a load of bull. Stupid Caeldori and her stupid riot. She's ruined my schedule. This used to be a good job. The prisoners knew their place and you didn't have to do much work, but then Altman and that ghost lady came."

"I hate that ghost lady! She freaks me out. You never know if she's watching or not."

Tharja's spectre slowly rose from the floor behind the two men. "Really?" She stated in a feminine but heavily distorted voice. "How could I make improvements then?"

Both soldiers threw themselves as far away from her as they could. "Agh! Ghost lady!" The first soldier cried. The second one put on a faint smile.

"Heh, you? No! We were talking about the… other ghost lady. The uh, less pretty one?"

"You're quick with your tongue, boy." Tharja phased through the man. "It would be a shame if anything were to happen to it." Tharja flew over the courtyard and deeper into the facility. She passed through walls and even parts of the mountain itself until rising into Altman's otherwise concealed laboratory. Altman stood reading over several papers. He didn't react to Tharja's arrival, but she knew better than to think she had finally snuck up on him. Tharja had made a lot of strange alliances in her time. Even joining with Chrom was an unusual decision for her. Of all these alliances though, joining with Altman was easily the strangest of all. Tharja watched him carefully. Altman's unusual combination of robes and armor was fairly unique to him, and the pitch black with bright golden trimmings formed a strange dissonance. His glaive appeared entirely ceremonial at first, but on closer inspection it was reinforced. Everything about Altman's appearance seemed designed to mislead, to make it difficult to ascertain his true purpose. His robes made him look like a mage, but the plate armor over them implied that he fought physically. It was hard to tell if his glaive was practical or ceremonial. Even if someone knew that it could be used in battle, they'd assume Altman was purely a physical fighter, but Tharja could feel dark magic radiating from his body. Altman himself was a tall but lanky man. It was hard to see his hair because of a hood he always had on, but from his eyebrows it seemed to be brown. He would normally be rather dark skinned, but he was unnaturally pale from a lack of sun exposure. He seemed to have a naturally thuggish face, and there was a dissonance between it and his eloquent voice, as well as the professional manner in which he held himself.

Altman waited for several seconds before finally speaking up. "Tharja." He said without looking up. "Do you have something to share, or is this your idea of a social visit?"

"Spectre. Tharja died thirty years ago. I'm a spectre now."

"Ah yes. It's just a strange thing to call someone."

"I overheard a conversation between prisoners. They're planning on smuggling wine into the prison."

"Hmm. Let them. We'll appropriate it when it arrives. The guards could use the morale boost. Was that all?"

"For now."

"Wait, spectre. One last thing before you go." Altman finally put down the papers and turned to his visitor. "It's not that I forget you don't want to be called Tharja, it's that I just have far more respect for you after you revealed your true identity to me."

"Oh?"

"I don't look favorably on your service to the Shepherds, but you were a powerful dark mage. You were well known for your experiments and power. You're an asset to Project: Xenologue."

"Aww. Thing for witches?"

"Not witches, but Plegian dark mages. I have a great respect for them." Altman looked down. "You see, a Plegian dark mage helped me become a part of this government. I was born a peasant in Ylisse, in a small and very isolated village. I always had a mind for curiosity, but there was little to do there. I was twelve when the war between Gangrel and Emmeryn began. A squad of Plegian soldiers lead by a dark mage came to pillage us, but the people fought them off. We slew them to the last man, save for the mage."

"Intel?"

"No. Oh no. You see my particular village had a hatred of magic. They wanted him to stay alive so that he could suffer. For weeks they tortured him. I remember falling asleep at night to the sounds of his screaming. Oh how they hated him, but I saw an opportunity to learn about magic. It fascinated me, and he could teach me. Whenever I could I would bring him food and water. I would loosen his bindings. I did everything I could for him, and he did tell me a few things."

"He couldn't possibly have taught you much."

"No, but one day he said something to me. He thanked me for everything I had done, and he said he sensed something in me. He said I had a natural affinity for dark magic."

"The Shadowgift?"

"Yes. He said 'Little one, you will do great things one day.' I never saw him again after that. The next day some of the men in the village dragged him into the forest. He didn't come back, and they wouldn't say what happened. I highly doubt he's still with us. I never forgot what he said though. Two years later I ran away and crossed the border to join the Plegian army. When Grima took over the world later that year, I became part of the newly formed armed forces of the Plegian Administrative Zone. Now here I am. I serve the High Inquisitor directly."

"Aww. It always flatters me when men tell me I remind them of dead mentor figures."

"You trusted me with your backstory, so I told you mine. Our working relationship needs to be built on trust. You see, spectre, I need to know that I can trust you."

"I'm helping you aren't I?"

"But why?"

"Because I'm tired of being trapped in this state between life and death. I want my body back."

"So you don't care about the Shepherds?"

"What does that matter?!"

Altman was normally very good at reading people. Tharja's lack of a face made it difficult for him to figure out what she was thinking, but he smiled as he finally got her to expose her emotions. "It matters because Severa was once your comrade. You used to fight side by side. Project: Xenologue needs a living person who passed through an outrealm gate. If we capture her, we can experiment on her. If we study the radiation her body was surely exposed to, then we can understand the magic Naga used to open outrealm gates. We can open our own outrealm gates. These experiments will be invasive. She is not likely to survive. Are you okay with that? Can you help us capture her?"

"I don't care about her. I don't care about any of them. All that matters is getting my body back."

"Do you care about your daughter? Your husband?"

If Tharja still had a face, it would be twisting with fury. "Be mindful of where you take this conversation, Altman."

"It is relevant. Like I said, this working relationship needs to be built on trust and honesty. The Grimleal know that Noire was your daughter, but we don't know exactly who your husband was. Who was he?"

Tharja hesitated, but she decided that answering would be easier. "Gaius. His name was Gaius."

Altman smiled. "Ah! Kryczek analyzed the psychological profiles of the Shepherds extensively, and he developed an algorithm for predicting relationships. Kryczek's algorithm predicted that your most likely sexual partner was Gaius. I'll have to tell him to give himself a pat on the back."

"What is the relevance of this?" Tharja demanded.

"You were honest with me, so I'll be honest with you. You're aware that I summoned the Deadlords to accompany Inquisitor Dartsmoth right?"

"Yes."

"As you may know, the Deadlords are powerful warriors that have appeared throughout the millennia. Their identities are always the same, but they have to be reincarnated from people that have died. When the Shepherd's fell, Gangrel and Aversa informed the Grimleal where the bodies were. My predecessors had the foresight to gather the bodies of the Shepherds that had passed through the outrealm gates. They couldn't find the bodies of Cynthia, Severa, or Nah, but they found all the other second generation Shepherds. That's ten bodies. They also found the bodies of Yen'fay, the only first generation Shepherd to go with Lucina's group through the outrealm gate, and Priam, who passed through an outrealm gate from another world entirely. That's twelve bodies. There are twelve Deadlords."

"You turned the Shepherds into the Deadlords?!"

"We experimented on the corpses to learn what he could about the radiation they were exposed to until no more data could be acquired from them. We didn't want them to go to waste, and the Deadlords are stronger when reincarnated from powerful warriors."

"I can't… I can't believe this."

"Your daughter Noire became Draco. Priam became Tigris. Yarne became Anguilla. Yen'fay became Simia. Gerome became Equus. Brady became Ovis. Laurent became Gallus. Morgan became Lepus. Inigo became Bovis. Kjelle became Porcus. Owain became Canis. Lucina became Mus."

"I… I…"

"See, this is what I'm talking about. I'm afraid you may resent the Grimleal for that, but remember that we did not kill them. We just didn't want the bodies to go to waste."

"Right." Tharja said blankly.

"Anyways, I have work to do. I just want to show you that we can trust each other. If you're honest with me, then I'll be honest with you." Altman walked out of his laboratory, and Tharja was left alone.

"Oh… I don't… my daughter. Oh Gaius. At least you don't have to see this."

* * *

Back in the town Chrom had called his home for twenty years, Donald the bartender walked to his house after a long day of work. He opened his door to find a rather troubling sight. His wife and two young daughters were in the company of a strange white haired man, with sunglasses made from thin cuts of smoky quartz. "Honey I'm… uh-"

"Wait, sweetheart!" Donald's wife said through her laughing. "Let him finish the story."

Dartsmoth nodded. "Alright, so the lady turns to the judge and says, 'The timber wolf ate my baby!'" Donald's wife and children broke out laughing.

"Oh, Dartsmoth. Your continent must have been a crazy place."

"Yeah, it was that. Don't miss it much though. The women here are far more _lovely_."

"Ooh, Dartsmoth."

Donald's pride made him step forward, but he was very uneasy about the man in front of him. "Erm, can I help you, sir?"

"Oh! You must be Donald!" Dartsmoth got up from his chair and walked out with his arms outstretched in a friendly manner. He had notably abandoned his black robe, and now wore a very light colored one. "I've heard so much about you from your wonderful family here." Dartsmoth turned back to Donald's wife and smiled. "Mind if we have a quick chat?"

"Not at all."

"Oh, thank you. And thank you for being such a gracious host."

Donald's wife giggled. "Oh, erm, my pleasure."

Dartsmoth approached Donald and patted him on the shoulder in a way that wasn't at all reassuring. "Come on, mate. This won't be long."

"Who are you?!" Donald said in a tone that was initially demanding, but he quickly lost his nerve as Dartsmoth shoved him along his own home.

"This answer your question?" Dartsmoth lifted up his sleeve to reveal the Mark of Grima tattooed on his arm. "My robe used to give me away, but I fixed that problem."

"Oh gods! Please don't hurt us!"

"Oh, Donald. You have a wonderful family. It would be unfortunate if something were to happen to them. See Donald, you don't have any rights."

"What?!"

"I did some digging, and turns out you're far more than just a bartender. You were a soldier in Walhart's Empire, and Walhart was no friend of the Grimleal. That makes you a war criminal. After you deserted, you became a brigand. That makes you a criminal! You never faced justice for your crimes. I could have you _processed_ , Donald."

"Please don't!"

"But I won't do that to your family. Not if you help me." Dartsmoth adjusted his sunglasses. "Now I need you to tell me everything you know about a man named Mercer."

* * *

Within a small building known only to Courtney, Inquisitor Federov and the former Lord Lieutenant watched through a glass screen as Inquisitor Rayhanah walked over to a solid metal cage. "Why are we doing this?!" Federov cried out. "Why are you being so brutal?!"

"I don't know how to work with Kryczek's neural conditioning. I need to start over. We have to get her as feral as possible. Then we can build her from the ground up."

"She needs to eat something! It's been three days! Her injury hasn't completely healed yet."

"She can eat when she's vicious enough to take the cheese by force." Courtney pounded on the glass. "LET HER OUT OF THE CAGE!"

Rayhanah nodded and opened the door, and E-13 slowly stepped out. She was completely naked. Her head had bandaging where she had taken her injury, but the bandages clearly hadn't been changed since they were applied as they were still bloody. Her front and back were covered with bruises that looked like they came from a whip. E-13 walked very slowly, and she seemed to be terrified of everything. Eventually her eyes fell to a slice of cheese on a plate at the end of the room, and her gaze was fixated on it from then on. She slowly got closer and closer to the cheese, but she didn't run right at it. Inquisitor St. John was standing in front of it, a riding whip in his hand. E-13 circled him, always staring at the cheese.

"For Grima's sake, Courtney! Please let her eat something!"

"If she's hungry, then she'll get the cheese herself."

E-13 finally sprinted for the cheese, but St. John struck her with the riding whip. At first she was undeterred, but he struck her over and over until she fell to her knees crying. She didn't give up entirely though, and she forced herself back to her feet. Her whimperings were replaced with a feral shriek, and she tried to tackle St. John, but he savagely beat her with the riding whip until she finally fell over, still conscious but defeated. Courtney shook his head. "She's not going to get it. PUT HER BACK IN THE CAGE! She can try again tomorrow."

"Please let her eat!"

Courtney shook his head. "She can eat when she's vicious enough to take the cheese by force."


	23. The Disease of the Heart

In a quiet stone cell, Chrom and Gaius did whatever they could to pass the time. Chrom was fine with sitting against the cold walls, pondering everything that had happened to him and his allies over the past few weeks. He couldn't stop thinking about his responsibility in it all. With the sole exception of going to look for Caeldori, nothing that had happened to Chrom since lashing out at Courtney and his power base was under his control. The townspeople had driven him from his home, and Courtney had him taken to the Rockpile. The girls took him to Cordelia's home, and his being there caused the Grimleal to attack. The group ended up in Nowi Falls because the Arch Surg had found them, and they had been herded by them from then on. Chrom wasn't leading his allies like he had lead the Shepherds. They were simply being driven from place to place, and he wasn't capable of stopping it.

None of his allies had even joined him because he persuaded them to. The girls joined because they trusted him to lead and guide them. All because of stories Tiki had told them. Tiki and Cordelia joined out of the belief that he could be the leader he once was. Gaius joined out of guilt from telling the Grimleal about Cordelia's homestead. None of them joined because Chrom truly inspired them himself. Gone were the days where people from all walks of society had joined his Shepherds to help him protect Ylisse, and gone were the days where criminals, Plegians, Valmese, and even political leaders would fight by his side because of the strength of his beliefs. He was a broken man now, notable only for what he had once been. Still people believed that he could help the world, and still they fought by his side for it, but they only suffered for his weakness. Cordelia's death, all the pain the girls had endured, even Gaius and Tiki being imprisoned here, it was all his fault.

More than that, Chrom thought about what the world had become. The Grimleal had brought untold suffering to the entire planet, ushering in imperialism on a global scale that had never been done before. Meanwhile the only alternative to the Grimleal's rule seemed to be the Archanean Liberation Front, a violent and bloody rebellion lead by career soldiers and madmen. Were it not for the fact that the Fell Dragon controlled the Grimleal, it would have been hard to tell if a world controlled by the Arch Surg would be any better. Finally, the world itself was dying. Vast deserts covered what had been farmland, and settlements seemed to be more and more scattered. The earth itself was becoming less hospitable. None of this would have happened if the Shepherds had won. Chrom would be Exalt of Ylisse as his elder sister once was, and he would try to lead the continent into a new age of peace. His wife and sisters would still be by his side. Soldiers like Frederick and Cordelia would have rebuilt the Ylissean military into a force of honor and justice, and the other Shepherds could go home to enjoy the prosperity they had achieved. Ylisse could have enjoyed peaceful relationships with Ferox and Chon'sin, and perhaps Chrom could have helped to rebuild Valm and Plegia. He could finally distance Ylisse from the imperialism of his father, and help to build a better, more connected world. Lastly, his children could have grown up safe and happy, with their older selves there to protect and watch over them. Lucina in particular could have been a fair and just Exalt one day, with a family of her own. She would never have to touch a sword in her life if she didn't want to. Now the old world was dead, the earth itself was dying, and Lucina was a living weapon. Everything Chrom's ancestors had built was gone, and it all died with him. All the suffering the world had endured for the past thirty years was all his fault.

Disturbingly, Chrom took some solace in his self loathing. Perhaps the human mind just needed to assign blame in a crisis, and even if the blame had to fall on the self, someone always had to be at fault. Maybe Gaius was right. Maybe Chrom thought that hating and blaming himself was somehow making up for what happened. Maybe it was just something to focus on, when everything in his life he cared about had long since disappeared. Whatever the reason, Chrom usually found some semblance of peace in these moments of reflection, but he couldn't now. While Chrom was fine with just sitting, Gaius was constantly pacing around. At first there had been awkward silence between the two, but as the hours went by Gaius started to make small talk occasionally. When he wasn't talking he was pacing back and forth, and Chrom was having a hard time focusing on his misery.

"Gaius?"

"Blue?"

"When are you going to just sit down?"

Gaius put his arms on the back of his head and leaned into them. "Mmm. You know what I could go for right now?"

"Let me guess. Something sweet?"

"Cake. Oh gods. I would do anything for a big slice of cake right now. Soft, moist, fluffy slice of cake, with creamy frosting? _Oh gods_."

"Gaius stop." Chrom groaned. "Now I'm hungry."

"When they give us our rations, just pick out the maggots and give them to me. I know you blue bloods have delicate stomachs, but I'll take the extra protein."

"Don't even joke about that." Chrom slowly rose to his feet. "Wait a minute. When you attacked me at Cordelia's homestead, you said you couldn't taste anything anymore?"

Gaius shrugged. "Yeah. It's hard to explain, but I just lost my taste."

"Maybe all those sweets overwhelmed your tastebuds?"

"Maybe. Maybe I just broke in general. I don't sleep well. Women don't make me feel anything anymore. Living people are just puppets on strings to me, and corpses are just puppets with the strings cut. That's all we are. Maybe all that fighting just… ruined me."

Chrom looked down as a now very familiar twinge of guilt hit him. "Gaius…"

"Whatever. I'm no doctor. I do have some taste though. Bitter food tastes like a sack of dog butts to me, but good food just tastes like dirt. Sometimes if I eat a really sweet thing, I can just get a spike of flavor."

"So you keep eating sweet things because you're trying to capture that taste from when you were younger?"

"I suppose. I know it sounds like an addiction, but for everything I've done in my life… an addiction to sweets has got to be the most innocent problem."

Chrom took a deep breath. Though part of him feared that Gaius would lash out at him, he still felt a need to be closer to him somehow. He had wronged him, and he had to try and make him feel better. Chrom himself couldn't understand why he only wanted to push Cordelia's affections away. Maybe he felt too guilty over her forgiveness. Maybe he felt better about Gaius because he had so much anger over what happened. Deep down, he wanted the ones he hurt to be furious with him. He couldn't understand Cordelia's compassion, but he could understand how Gaius felt. It was how he felt. "Gaius? You… you really could just kill anyone you were hired to kill as an assassin? You really did abandon your moral code?"

"Yes I did. I used to be very strict about it. As a thief I never hurt someone if I didn't have to. I never took a life unless my own was threatened. I never took a job if I thought they were hiring me as a mercenary. You and Bubbles really did take that from me." For the first time in hours, Gaius turned to look Chrom right in the eye. "Think about it. When I joined the Shepherds, you treated me like I was any other soldier. You ordered me into battle as readily as you ordered Frederick, or Cordelia, or Sully into battle. I wasn't a soldier like them! I didn't think you'd treat me like one! Did you wonder for a moment if I would be okay with the killing?!"

"I… you're right. We didn't. So many people started to join the Shepherds at once, and I was so focused on the fight against Gangrel. I didn't think about that at all."

"I did it though. I followed all your orders, but I did it because I believed in your cause. I thought everything we did was worth it if we would save the world. When you betrayed us… I realized that everything I had done was for nothing. I threw away my code for nothing! I just… it ruined me. The world got so messed up in the years that followed that I took any work I could get to survive, and I feared that the Grimleal might try hunting me down. Being an assassin paid well, it kept my combat skills sharp, and I could do the work. I wasn't proud of it, but I could do it. All thanks to you and Bubbles."

"Oh Gaius. You have to believe me." Part of Chrom wanted to turn away. He managed to look Gaius in the eye, but his voice still came out squeaky. "I am so sorry."

"You know what? I believe you."

"R-really?"

"Yes. I hated you when we met again at the homestead. If Cordelia hadn't been there, then you wouldn't be here. Even after leaving I was still mad. I just felt that you had to suffer somehow. That was the only way to make things right. That's why I told the Grimleal where you were." Gaius was the one to look away this time. "I'm still angry with you. You will always be the man that killed my wife and daughter. But… you inspired me again."

"W-what?"

Gaius thought about his words. "It's just… it's the girls."

"Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori?"

"Yes. They make me feel old and useless."

"I uh, I don't know how to help you with that."

"No! It's not that I'm getting old, though I am. It's that they really believe the world can be saved. They've gone through a lot of crap in their lives, but they still have a positive look on the future. When I gave up, they were fighting for the future. Just like… just like Noire and her friends did. It makes me realize that being an assassin was just my way of hiding. Maybe I survived for a reason. Maybe that was my chance to help the world, to not give up… but I didn't take it. I tried to rot away, killing for a pile of gold like some monster from a fairy tale. If Lucina had lived, she wouldn't have given up. If Noire had lived, she wouldn't have given up. If Robin was still around, he wouldn't have given up. I gave up. I'm weaker than them."

"Oh Gaius." Chrom said softly.

"I started thinking about why I really joined the Shepherds in the first place. It… it was you. You just make people want to follow you. You raise that sword in the air and you promise to make things right and I just… all the voices telling me it's a bad idea to fight with you go away. You inspired me back then. That's why it hurt so much when you betrayed us… but now it's the same thing. The more I'm with you, the less I hate you for what happened. The more I want to fight by your side to save what's left of this world. I just feel like I could go through hell and back so long as you're there with us." Chrom stood in stunned silence. He didn't know what to say, and Gaius just smiled. "Not sure if that's exactly how the girls feel, but they're why I'm here. You can't be such a bad guy if they truly believe that you can help the world. Seeing them with you… it helped me realize that you can still be a leader. It helped me let go of my hatred, and I see now that you are sorry."

"I… I can't believe this."

"What do you mean?"

Chrom sat back down. "This is going to sound strange but… it was hard to be around Cordelia because she forgave me. She only gave me affection and trust, and that disturbed me. I… wanted her to hate me. You were right, Gaius. I remember what you said when you confronted me after my drinking binge. You said I want people to hate me because I think that makes up for my failures. If those I hurt hate me like I do, then it makes me feel better. It took me awhile to accept Cordelia's love because I only felt guilt around her, but… but it made me feel better that you hated me. As you should have. I know that sounds horrible, but it's the truth. Now you're telling me that you want to follow me again and I… I don't know what to think about that."

Gaius gave an expression that seemed a mixture of disgust and confusion. "Would you rather I had put a bullet in your head?!"

"There's a part of me that does want it to just… end."

"Chrom…" Gaius was visibly disturbed by what he was hearing, but he forced himself forwards and sat by his old friend and leader. "You just need to learn to forgive yourself."

"I don't know that I can."

"If I were you, I'd be angry! After everything the Grimleal has done, you should be angry! When Gangrel did what he did to Emmeryn, you vowed to stop him! You would never stop fighting until he was defeated! Look at what the Grimleal has done to the world! Remember what happened to Cordelia?! Remember what they did to the younger Lucina?! Why doesn't that make you want to fight back?!"

"I do want to fight back!"

"But where is the man that promised to stop at nothing to bring peace?! Where is he?! That man would never wish for things to just end. That man would never give up!"

"That man is gone, Gaius! I don't look favorably on who I used to be!"

"What?"

"When I vowed to stop Gangrel, I thought I had figured everything out. I thought everything was black and white. I was the hero, and my enemies were villains that deserved death. I would kill those who needed killing and then go home. When Walhart attacked, and when we had to stop Validar, it was the same. I stopped growing and developing as a man. I thought I had all the answers for how to make the world a better place. I became complacent, and that complacency is why Gangrel and Aversa were able to ruin everything right under our noses. I won't be like that again. I won't allow myself to become a man of violence and little else. I won't ever allow myself to think that life is as simple as killing your way to victory. Not again. A leader needs more nuance than that. Men who allow violence to dominate their lives so, they either turn into monsters or get killed. I may fight for a better world now, Gaius, but I won't ever be like I was."

Gaius thought about Chrom's words for some time. "Do you want me by your side or not?"

"Wait, no! I didn't mean to reject your help." Chrom turned to his longtime ally. "I'm not sure that I can just forgive myself, Gaius. I'm not sure I'll ever forget all the pain I put you through every time I see you. It was the same with Cordelia. It might be the same with Henry. I don't know how to feel about you wanting to follow me. But… don't go. I don't… have many other allies right now. I don't want to be alone again."

Gaius patted Chrom on the shoulder. "Something has to change, Blue. If you won't be the man you were, then you have to be someone better than this. Whatever you do though, I will stay by your side."

"Thank you." Chrom and Gaius tensed up at the sound of footsteps outside the cell, and they rose to their feet. Chrom looked out through the bars to see an ancient man hobbling over to him. This was easily the oldest man Chrom had ever seen. The man was bald on the top of his head, but had a thick white beard. He wore robes and had gray, shriveled skin. "Who are you?!" Chrom cried out as the man approached. "What do you want?"

"That's the welcome I get? We go so long without seeing each other and that's how you greet me?"

"What?!"

"You don't recognize me?" The old man reached the bars and smiled at the two. "Don't tell me you two have gone senile already. I've got decades on you and my memory is still working."

"We're supposed to remember you?" Gaius asked.

"Well it has been some time since you arrived in the outrealms to help me recover the Einherjar cards. I'm sure you all went on adventures all the time, so you may not remember me, but I am still thankful."

Chrom almost allowed himself to fall into the bars out of disbelief. "You must be jesting! You?! You're still alive?!"

"Who?" Gaius looked back to Chrom. "Who is this?"

"This is the old man that lived in the Outrealms. He kept the Einherjar cards?"

Gaius froze. "You can't be serious."

"That's right! I'm Old Hubba, just a simple fortune teller living in the Outrealms, or I was."

"How the hell are you still alive?! You were old back then! Look at us! Now we're old, so how can you possibly still be around?!"

Old Hubba shrugged. "Time works differently in the Outrealms… and also carrots."

"Carrots?!"

"Yep. Carrots. Steam them. Chop them up. Find places other than your mouth for them. As long as you get them into your body somehow."

"Eww." Gaius said as he turned away. Chrom stood up straight.

"Wait, you don't live in the Outrealms anymore?"

"I'm afraid not. The Grimleal drove me out. They sent entire armies into the Outrealms after they took over this world. I was able to survive at first by pretending to be just another old man."

Chrom sighed in relief. "So they didn't get the Einherjar cards?"

"No. I kept those safe. Unfortunately I couldn't maintain my cover, or maybe they just got tired of me."

"Tired of you?"

"Well the commander was a surprisingly young woman. The other versions of the Grimleal I've seen never had such fine young maidens in their service. I may have made a few suggestive comments… or maybe a lot."

"Really?" Chrom groaned.

"But before they kicked me out, I learned that they're very ambitious. They're interested in mapping the Outrealms, and they might try to subjugate some of the worlds. It would take a long time of course, but time is something the Fell Dragon has a lot of."

"That's very disturbing. I don't want to think about what the Grimleal would want with the Outrealms."

"Yeah that's real interesting." Gaius said as he turned back. "I have another question. The hell are you here?!"

"Oh yeah. See I've been living in the Outrealms a long time. I didn't really have anywhere else to go. The Archanean Liberation Front offered me a job. That officer dressed like that fine blue haired lass-"

"You mean my daughter?" Chrom growled.

"Err, right. Heh. Anyways that cross-dressing kid recognized me. He offered me the chance to serve, and in turn I get free food and a place to stay. It's not like a man my age can work much! This job is easy."

"Wait, he recognized you?"

"Not sure how, but yes. He knew who I was, and he knew that I watched over the Outrealms."

"Does that mean Keith knew about the Einherjar?!"

Old Hubba seemed very nervous. "Heh well uh, err… kind of."

"Did you give it to him?!"

"No! No, no. Of course not."

"So the Arch Surg don't have access to them?"

"Err… now why did you have to phrase it that way?"

Chrom and Gaius both glared at him. "So they do have them!"

"Heh well uh, I did resist at first."

"But?!"

"Well then they sent Pheros to talk to me. She has such lovely eyes, and her shirt was rather thin, and it was cold that day. She may be an older woman but her goods haven't spoiled, if you know what I mean."

Chrom shook his head. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

"Does it look like I'm still maturing? Anyways I did give them some of the cards, but I still have most of them!"

"You told me yourself that the Einherjar could conquer entire nations! The Arch Surg doesn't deserve that kind of power!"

"I just gave them the weak ones! Eirika, Micaiah, and Celica. Those were the weakest ones in my possession. Wait… I was thinking of Sakura. Celica was really powerful. Err… watch out if an angry Celica is coming at you."

"This is very serious!"

"I'm sorry! I still have most of them in my possession. I promise! I keep them somewhere safe, and I don't think that confusingly dressed Arch Surg officer knows I have more."

Gaius looked at Old Hubba. "Enough of those zombie things! What are you doing here right now?!"

"Oh! Of course. See Lucina's male emulator, Luciano?"

"His name is Keith."

"I like my name for him. So Luciano has me as a kind of chaplain. I talk about Naga and the importance of humanity controlling its own destiny and whatnot, and I pay visits to some of the prisoners. That's what I'm doing now. Thing is… they only send me to prisoners that are about to be executed. So… awkward."

"WHAT?!"

Gaius violently grabbed the bars. "Well we're not going down without a fight!"

"Wait, wait! Hold on! I know they're not going to kill you, but they do have something planned. I am worried about you. Another thing is that I'm only supposed to see you, Chrom. Not your younger companions."

"So now what?"

Old Hubba's expression became very serious. "I know you will not be executed here because I have foreseen what will soon happen to you. I have been shown a vision of your future. Now is when I would normally give my sermon, but I have an edification far more important than that for you. I almost never do this, but I want to show you the vision I have seen."

Chrom wasn't sure what to think. "Wait you actually get visions? You weren't just making that up?"

"No! My visions are very real. I really did foresee your fight against Grima when we first met, and I have seen a vision of your future now. This timeline is very wrong, Chrom."

"Tell me about it."

Old Hubba placed his hands on his head and focused. "Okay. It's coming to me, but your mind won't be able to process it. Not without the ritual."

"What ritual?"

"You must help me perform a ritual to see my vision. First I need the female members of your party."

Gaius scowled. "I know where this is going."

"They must come to see me, just the four of us. They must be wearing the special ceremonial robes. Don't worry. They're not hard to make. They're made from very little fabric. They must rub the ceremonial oils on me. Oh yes. I need to be covered in the oils. Slowly. Gently. Only then will my mind be able to show you the visions. Oh yes."

Chrom slammed against the bars again. "One more word, old man! _One more word_!"

"Gah! Alright, alright? Can't an old man have some fun? I really can show you the vision though. Just try to relax. Hold out your hand."

"Umm, alright." Chrom slowly reached out through the bars, and Old Hubba touched his hand. He was immediately consumed by a vision, and a number of events flashed before his eyes. Chrom could first see himself and his companions locked in battle with several enemies. At first they looked like Risen, but then he could recognize them as Deadlords. There were tears in everyone's eyes as Henry and Ophelia fought a Valkyrie, Gaius fought a Sniper, Soleil fought a Bow Knight, and Chrom himself fought a General. Chrom could then see Caeldori engaged in combat against Inquisitor Altman. After a furious exchange of blows, Altman manages to disarm her and stabs her in the thigh with his glaive. Caeldori goes down screaming. Ophelia could then be seen fighting against a white haired man, wearing a light robe and sunglasses. At first he is driven back, but then creates a lightning bolt of some kind and rams it into Ophelia's chest. Chrom could then see Soleil. Her arms are bound, and young women forcibly strip her of her clothing. It is replaced by a strange red armor. She is then in a coliseum. She is wearing red plate armor, though her arms and legs are exposed. Yellow paint runs down her side, even down her exposed leg and across her bare face. She raises her arm in the air, and the crowd cheers. They call her the Goddess of the Sun. A woman wearing black armor, with two katanas by her side, watches over her. Next, several young men and women can be seen. They are wearing only undergarments, and they are kept in cages. A massive ship appears, and it is torn in half as explosions rock its hull. Tiki can then be seen. She is trapped in some kind of machine, and she cries as lightning strikes her. Chrom goes to help her, but a black shadow falls over the area. He looks up and sees the Fell Dragon itself heading towards him. It opens its jaws, and a blast of energy strikes the ground. In seconds, everything is enveloped by a purple light.

"GAAAH!" Chrom yelled as he stepped back. Gaius ran over to him.

"Are you okay?!"

"Yeah I just… woah."

Old Hubba shook his head. "Well that was violent. That part about Soleil though? Ooh. I'll have to remember that image."

"What was that?!" Chrom ran back to the bars. "Is that going to happen?!"

"It is a vision of the future."

"Is there nothing we can do to stop it?!"

Old Hubba gave a kind smile. "Did your daughter teach you nothing? Anything can change."

"But… but how?!"

"You have to understand that things happen for a reason. These events do not have to come to pass, but you can't just try to keep them from happening. Everything happens for a reason. There is free will in life, but there is no significance to any action taken."

"What?"

"You have free will, but no action you take has truly meaningful consequences. For every action you take, there are timelines where you took different actions, and there are timelines where you were never given the choice in the first place. Millions of people making billions of choices over thousands of years. That's what makes all the timelines unique. Things that happen in one timeline won't affect all the others. In the grand scheme of things nothing you could do has any significance. You can change this timeline though. You can change the future. Lucina and her companions changed this timeline just by coming back. Already this timeline became different from her own. Your actions can change the world. Never think that anything has to happen."

"I'm not sure that I understand."

"Things happen for a reason. You can prevent what you saw in the vision from coming to pass, but you have to understand why these things happen. Only by understanding why each event happens can you truly stop it. There is a road in the hearts of all of us, hidden and seldom traveled, which leads to an unknown, secret place. You must understand the world itself, and you will think more deeply and feel more keenly. You will see more clearly into the mysteries of life and come closer in kinship to the lives of others. When you understand who you are, and what you are in this world, you will be able to keep these terrible futures from happening."

Chrom was even more confused than before, but he felt strangely comforted by the words. "Umm, thanks, I guess."

* * *

In a cell like the one Chrom and Gaius were in, Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori found different ways to entertain themselves. Ophelia and Caeldori were fine with sitting quietly, but Soleil angrily paced around. Much to the chagrin of her friends, as well as a guard standing within earshot, she took the opportunity to practice her screechy, tone deaf singing. "Your faith in me brings me to tears. Even after all these years. And it pains me so much to tell. That you don't know me that well. And though my love is raaaaare! Though my love is truuuuueee!"

"Shut up back there!" The guard roared. "Brain dead wench!"

Soleil only sang louder. She sang partially to entertain herself, but also out of spite. She wanted the guard to suffer, as she knew he was forced to hear it. "I'm like a biiird! I'll only fly awaaaay!"

"Soleil!" Caeldori shouted.

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE MY SOUL IS!"

Ophelia covered her ears. "Soleil, please-"

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE MY HOME IS!"

The guard banged his weapon against the wall. "Damn it, prisoner! How would you like a back of the head punch?!"

"I'm not afraid of you! My stats are well rounded! I'm a strong, independent unit who don't need no pair up partner!"

Ophelia looked at Soleil with pleading eyes. "Soleil! Please! It's not that we don't… love your singing, but you're going to get hurt!"

Soleil finally calmed down and sat on the ground. She was quiet for a few minutes, but eventually her urge to fill the silence became unbearable. "Ophelia? What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking we're all in a lot of trouble." She responded bleakly. Soleil nodded and turned to Caeldori.

"What are you thinking about?"

Caeldori was sitting in the corner, reading a small book the guards had neglected to take from her. "Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"My nose is clogged, and I'm thinking that I took all the time it wasn't clogged for granted."

"Really?! That's what you're thinking about?! I thought you'd be thinking about military strategy, or a way out of here!"

"I am human, Soleil."

Soleil squinted at Caeldori and crawled closer to her. "What are you reading?"

"None of your business." Caeldori glanced up to see that Soleil was approaching her, and she tried hiding the book. "I said none of your business!"

Soleil wrestled Caeldori for the book, ignoring her protests, and finally freed it from her hands. She ran around the cell reading it, Caeldori stumbling after her. "Falling for Her in a Fortnight: The Pocket Edition." Soleil read aloud. "Wait a minute… this is dirty!' Soleil eagerly flipped through it and held Caeldori back as she tried to retrieve it. "Ha! BWAHAHAHA! This is porn! You're reading smut!"

"It's not smut! It's, it's an adventure!"

"Is that what we're calling it now? Could you two give me some privacy? I want to have an adventure with myself."

"Rupturing bunions, Soleil! Why are you such a bully?!"

"Why do you read this stuff anyways? You wouldn't know what to do with a boy if you had one."

"I-I held a boy's hand once!"

"Ooh." Soleil responded in a mocking tone. "Don't stop now, I'm getting all steamy over here." Caeldori's face was bright red at this point, and she grappled with Soleil. She used actual combat moves Cordelia had taught her to overpower Soleil and force her to the ground. The two women looked into each other's eyes. Caeldori was gripped with frustration, but Soleil blushed. "Heh. Reenacting a scene from the book?"

"Give me that back you dunderhead!"

Ophelia finally rose to her feet. "Stop it! Both of you! I'm trying to mediate on my chosenness by absorbing ambient duskness in the air, but you two are making it impossible to concentrate!"

"What?!" Soleil asked. Ophelia ran her hand down her face in annoyance.

"You two are like little children. Always fighting!"

"She started it!" Caeldori responded in a squeakier tone than she intended. Ophelia started shaking.

"I'll finish it!" She waved her hand, and purple energy materialized in between Caeldori and Soleil. It exploded outwards. Both women were propelled away from each other, but they weren't seriously hurt. Ophelia's eyes widened. "Wait! I didn't think that would be so hard! I'm sorry!"

"Wow! That was impressive!" The girls turned to see Henry standing outside of the bars. "You threw them apart like they were nothing! How'd you do that? Telekinesis? Concussive blast? Was that a curse?"

"Uh, I don't know." Ophelia slowly walked towards him. Caeldori tried to raise her arm in front of her as she recovered, but Ophelia gently brushed past her. "Are you supposed to be here?"

"Well I am an officer here. The guard wasn't very helpful at first, but he got a lot more friendly after his armor started to superheat!"

Soleil tried to look through the bars. "That explains that shout I heard while reading your porn."

"It's not porn!" Caeldori shouted back. Ophelia stepped closer to the cell door.

"So you… really are my grandfather?"

"Well Owain was my son. I'm guessing he's your father? Is that where you got that mark?"

"Well I… never knew him. I never even saw him."

"Oh. Right. I don't recall him bringing a girl to the camp after all." Henry gave a warm smile, which was strange given the subject matter. "Ah well. You don't need parents. I never really knew my parents and I turned out alright!"

Ophelia looked him up and down. "I can't believe I still have family left. I knew I had Chrom, but I can't believe I'm actually talking to my grandfather. You're some kind of mage?"

"A dark mage! Same as you."

"M-me?"

"Surely you've wondered where your talent for dark magic came from. I guess I passed it down, nya ha ha! Given who your grandparents are, it makes a lot of sense that you'd be such a strong mage!"

Ophelia smiled. "You think I'm a strong mage, and you think I have a talent for dark magic?"

"Don't you?"

"Not that I knew of."

Henry studied her carefully. "I can feel it. You do have a natural affinity for dark magic. That's rare you know. You're sure it hasn't manifested in any way? Have you ever tried using a dark magic tome? Have you ever used telekinesis?"

"Yes! I have done that. I'm not very good at it though. It's dark magic?"

"Sure is. It's an old Plegian trick. I've never seen someone who can't use dark magic do it." Henry raised his hand, and various small objects in the room started to float towards him. Dust, small rocks, things the girls had in their pockets, and a hapless beetle started to levitate around him. Soleil and Caeldori looked on in annoyance, but Ophelia was amazed. "Neat huh?"

"Wow!"

Soleil felt through her pockets. "Oh yeah sure. I wasn't using any of that. Just take it from me. That's fine. I'm fine with that." She muttered bitterly.

Henry flung the objects around the room, and a small rock was sent hurtling towards Ophelia. She raised her hand and telekinetically caught it before it hit her face. "Gah! Grandfather! You almost hit me!"

"Oh sorry, but see! You can do it to!"

"That's so cool! I knew I was a chosen hero! I just knew it! Oh my shoulders ache from the weight of my chosenness, bearing down on me! The stars themselves align to give me power beyond imagining!"

Henry smiled even wider. "Just like your father. You know, I could teach you some spells and curses if you wanted."

"Really?!" Ophelia was jumping up and down at this point. "That sounds amazing!"

"Umm, Ophelia?" Caeldori said nervously. "I don't know if we should trust this man."

"But he's my grandfather!" Ophelia turned back to him. "So what's your favorite spell?" She asked eagerly. Henry thought about it.

"Hmm, oh! I know! I once came up with a curse I call the Admirer's Revenge."

"That sounds exciting! What did it do?"

"See before I joined the Archanean Liberation Front, I made a living by performing spells and curses for people who hired me. This one young man said he had a real longing for a young village maiden, but she never paid him any mind. He asked if I could help." Soleil and Caeldori looked at each other nervously, but Ophelia looked on in wide eyed wonder. "I eventually came up with just the solution! A curse that made the maiden fall in love with him! See the curse caused agonizing pain whenever the woman thought about anything, _anything_ , besides the man. For days on end she was gripped with crippling pain, until her mind associated the man with the relief of pain. Before long she was his. My curse worked perfectly! I think they're still together!"

Ophelia's smile faded very slowly, and a look of confused horror started to take her. "W-what? What?!"

"And they say money doesn't buy love. Nya ha ha!"

"You tortured her into loving him?!"

"Sure did. Clever huh? You just can't teach some people how to pick up dates, but any dark mage can learn my curse! Why I've revolutionized marriage!"

Ophelia slowly backed away. "Gods!"

"Wait, it gets better! After I made my curse, I was approached by a man from the Arch Surg. He asked me if my curse could be modified to force people to think other things. He asked me if it could force people to be loyal to an army. I modified my curse a little and presto! I created a curse that made people mindlessly loyal to the Arch Surg. To this day they use it to recruit people. That's why I'm an officer here."

"You brainwashed people into serving the Arch Surg?! Some of the soldiers here were forced to join?!"

"Yep! About a third of them. It's not just that I made them join. I also made them loyal! They truly believe in Archangel's cause now. Neat huh?! If only I came up with that curse thirty years ago. We could have made anyone into a Shepherd! Maybe even Grima! Nya ha ha!"

Ophelia was now more afraid than anything, and Soleil and Caeldori moved to stand in front of her. "You… you're a monster! That's why people are so afraid of dark mages! People like you use magic to do horrible things!"

"What?" Henry looked to the girls innocently. "What?!"

"Stay away from me!"

"Oh come on. How about I help you." Henry turned to Caeldori, who still had some bruises on her face. "I can heal her! Normal healing staffs can't completely heal her injuries, but I can use dark healing! It's much more effective. I just need someone to draw life force from." Henry raised his arm towards Soleil. "You look lively!"

"Wait, what?!" Soleil exclaimed. Henry began to draw a green energy from her, and she spasmed and convulsed. Henry then shot the green energy into Caeldori. The cuts and bruises on her face began to disappear, but Soleil was sent into a state of shock. Ophelia and Caeldori rushed to her side as she collapsed to the ground.

"What did you do?!" Ophelia yelled.

"I healed your friend. Dark healing requires a sacrifice. She's young. She'll recover."

"You're a monster!"

"But I helped you?" Henry said. His tone was calm and friendly, and this only made Ophelia angrier.

"Get away from us!"

"But-"

" ** _Just leave us alone_**!" Ophelia turned her back to him, and Henry slowly backed away.

"Where did I go wrong? She was so interested in what I was saying. Being a grandfather is going to be harder than I thought. Hmm. I could always cast Admirer's Revenge on her! Then she'd love me… though I better change the kind of love expressed."

* * *

Within the Arch Surg capital of Belfire, two soldiers stood awkwardly as a teenaged girl read to them from a stack of papers. The young woman had long hair, a brown color so faded that it almost looked gray. She had fair skin and light brown eyes. She wore a short dress and long boots that went past her knees, and she had a huge smiled plastered on her face as she read her story. "And so the First Exalt turned to the young maid, and he looked longingly at her. This was no ordinary maid. This woman was magnificent. She had the strength of Marth, the Hero King. She had the bravery of Lucina, the Foreseer. She had the intelligence of Forneus, the Alchemist of Thabes. Finally she had the charisma of Eldruud, the Bard Who Became Tolerable. He walked over to her, placed a hand on her shoulder, and says 'That's enough cleaning for this room. My wife is always the one that cares so much about this room… but she is away. She won't be back until tomorrow.' 'Oh!' The maid says. 'Whatever shall I do until then?' 'Why not polish my spear?' He responds with a devilish look in his eye."

The first soldier leaned over and whispered into the other guard's ear. "Does this seem dirty to you?"

"Oh yeah. This is straight up porn."

The young woman continued to read. "'Oh but your spear is so long and hard! It could take all night!' 'Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time.'" The woman put down the papers and smiled even wider at the two soldiers. "Well how was it?!"

"Uhh… it was… it had good sentence structure." The first soldier responded. The second shook his head.

"I feel _dirty_."

A third soldier entered the room and approached the young woman. "Miranda. Archangel would like to see you now."

"What for?"

"She wishes to say goodbye."

The young woman nodded and turned back to the two soldiers. "Well we'll have to continue this another time. Make sure to think about your criticisms!" Miranda and the soldier left the room, and the other two soldiers both sighed.

"Ah! What is wrong with that woman! Writing smutty stories about the First Exalt?! Who would do that? Who would write stories about the heroes of legend for the sole purpose of putting them in sexual situations?"

"Well I don't know. I could see some people being into that."

Miranda followed the soldier into a large room with a hole built into the wall. Archangel stood staring at her massive pair of wings mounted on the ceiling. She was wearing her full flight gear. She had a thick coat, reinforced boots, and a helmet complete with goggles to protect her eyes at high altitudes. She turned to Miranda as she walked towards her. "Mother. You're leaving?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

Miranda seemed slightly worried. "But you never leave Belfire."

"Some things are just that important. Your brother Keith is stationed at Fort Morgan, and he has priority targets with him. I'm going to meet them in person."

Miranda crossed her arms. "He's not my real brother!"

"I adopted him, so that makes him your brother. Now get over here and give your mother a hug."

Miranda hugged her armored mother, but then eagerly retrieved her papers. "Wait! Before you go… can you read my story?"

"I was kind of just about to leave."

"Please!"

"Ugh. Is it dirty?"

"No!"

"Are you lying to your mother?"

Miranda looked down. "Yes."

Archangel sighed. "Alright give it here. I'll read it quickly."

Miranda happily handed Archangel the papers. She also gave her a pen. "Thank you! Make sure to annotate parts you like, and I left space on the bottom of each page so you can leave feedback!" Miranda walked away with a spring in her step, and Archangel looked over the papers.

"What's this thing called anyways?" She read over the title. "The Lusty Plegian Maid?! Oh gods. This had better not be gross."


	24. The Thursday War

With its size making it difficult to scout, and its inhospitality making it a challenge to secure, the Ylissean Badlands had been known as an Arch Surg stronghold since its creation. For years the rebels had made camps and forts throughout the area. Supplies necessary to live in such an arid wasteland were sent through convoys travelling from the few major settlements the Arch Surg controlled, purchased through third parties, or stolen from the Grimleal. None of these methods could be relied on for permanent sustenance, so Arch Surg camps were made to be quickly abandoned if necessary. The Grimleal officers often compared the situation to a cockroach infestation. Much like how roaches would flee whenever one entered a room, the Arch Surg could easily be driven from individual areas, but they would always scurry to somewhere else in the badlands.

Fort Morgan, however, was an exception to this doctrine. Named after someone that had once been very close to Archangel, the fort was built to last. The settlement was very close to Death Valley, where the badlands first started to spread from after Grima unleashed its blight upon the world. This was where the badlands were at their worst. There was virtually no vegetation of any kind, water was scarce, and the rocky outcroppings were so severe that many areas could not be traversed on foot. The Arch Surg could only maintain the fort through long supply lines, and even then the settlement was often running on a skeleton crew, but the trade off was a kind of natural protection. The Grimleal never ventured this far into the region. Even though their forces had long known about Nowi Falls, the Grimleal had yet to know about Fort Morgan.

At the center of the fort was a small keep. It was the only building in the settlement besides the walls and prison constructed from stone, and it even had its own set of walls. Keith took up residence here, but he wasn't currently in the actual tower. The Justicar's attention was focused on a solid metal box in the keep's courtyard. The box was about the size of a prison cell, and it featured small barred windows to allow air in. The box also had hooks attached to it at the top. Other than all that, the construction had no defining features besides a door. This too was solid metal, and it was designed to be locked from the outside. Two armed guards stood in front of it, and they stepped out of Keith's way as he unlocked the door and stepped inside the box.

Just barely visible through liberally applied chains, bindings, and restraints was the face of the Voice of Naga. Tiki had mostly recovered from the drugs the Arch Surg used to incapacitate her, but she was still a little out of it. She barely brought her head up to look at Keith as he entered her new home, little more than a glorified cage. "Hmm. Wha? Mar-Mar?"

Keith straightened his posture, but a look of confusion crept underneath his ever present mask. "Excuse me?"

Tiki squinted at the figure she was talking to. For an instant, in her haze, she thought she was looking at her old friend and ally. She shook those thoughts from her head and remembered that Lucina was a different person, but then she realized that even this was wrong. Though her time with the Shepherds had gone by in the blink of an eye from her own point of view, it had been quite a while for everyone else. She struggled to think clearly through the foggy state she was in, and she remembered that even Lucina was gone now. This man was someone else entirely. "Oh. It's you."

"Do you know who I am?"

"I have heard stories of the Archanean Liberation Front. People speak of a one armed woman with wings like those from a Pegasus, former Valmese generals from Walhart's empire, and even of a Plegian dark mage using a curse to force people into serving, but nothing caught my attention more than the tales of a young officer with a great love for the twice born princess. I guess it's fitting. Lucina very badly wanted to be like a hero from the past that inspired her. Now she too has gone on to inspire others. Of course… I'm not sure she intended anyone to honor her quite like you do."

"I seek only to inspire."

"Where did you even learn so much about her?"

"Shepherd's Folly. It's where they actually died. Over the years people have travelled to Shepherd's Folly to contribute to a memorial in their honor. Now you can learn all about them from there. I stumbled upon that memorial after I was left to die in the wilderness. From her story, I learned that anyone can fight for a better world. It doesn't matter how bad things are. The future is not written."

Tiki briefly struggled against her many bonds, but she quickly realized that they wouldn't budge. "That sounds very noble, but how does this better future include doing this to me? To Chrom and Ophelia? To everyone?!"

Keith seemed somewhat remorseful beneath that mask. He looked down, and his voice became softer. "I just want to say that I am a crusader for Naga, just as the Future Witness was before me. You are the Voice of Naga. Like your mother, you have helped to fight for humanity's future. We, all of us, owe you a debt that can never be repaid." Tiki looked at Keith cautiously, fearing where he was going. "But… my kind faces a greater threat to its existence than anything we have ever seen. The Fell Dragon is destroying our very planet, and the Grimleal, race traitors all of them, poisons us and weakens us. Some of them may think that serving the Fell Dragon is necessary to save us, but they are really ensuring that we are too weak to rise up. They are keeping us stunted so that when Grima is ready to destroy us, we will die already on our knees. We have to defeat them. The Archanean Liberation Front is the future of the human condition… but we need money."

"Money?"

"War costs money. Supplies, salaries, weapons, ships, we cannot continue to fight without these things." Keith stepped closer to Tiki. "The Grimleal have a bounty on your head. They've had it for years, and it has only gotten higher. If we turn you over to them, they will pay _thirty million_ gold. That money could secure our fight against the Grimleal!"

Tiki slowly shook her head as a fear beyond almost anything she had ever known began to consume her. She could barely manage to choke out words. "You… you would give me to the Fell Dragon?!"

"We'll have a third party complete the exchange, and the money will slowly enter our treasury through untraceable means. Your sacrifice will allow us to save our race. Your mother would be proud."

Keith spoke with a calm tone, and it only horrified Tiki. The way he said the last words in particular made her realize that Keith truly believed in what he said. He really thought he was somehow following in her mother's legacy. "Please!" She tried to say as calmly as she could, but it was hard to hide the fear in her voice as her mind thought of what Grima wanted her for. "You say that you're following in the legacies of heroes! You say that you want to serve Naga! How can that possibly include doing this to me?! Whatever the Fell Dragon wants from me, it cannot be good for humanity!"

Keith was unmoved. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten. Again, we all owe you a debt that can never be repaid."

Tiki tried to stay calm. She didn't allow herself to pointlessly struggle against her bonds or panic, but she found that her last attempts to reason with Keith as he walked away were more desperate than she intended. "Please don't do this! You could unleash horrors on the world if Grima had access to my power! I-I can help you! Please! DON'T!" Keith simply stepped outside the box and had the door sealed behind him, leaving Tiki with nothing but the small amount of light entering through the tiny barred windows. She hung her head and took deep breaths. "Mother. Please."

Within the keep itself, Vasto, Algol, and Pheros passed the time by playing a card game. The three had been willing to play for coin, and most of the gold pile was on Vasto's side of the table. Pheros and Algol were far less enthusiastic than he was. "Ha ha! I'm getting extra rations tonight! Meat is back on the menu boys!" Vasto said in an excited tone.

Pheros groaned and ran her hand along the side of her face. "Ugh. There goes my bonus. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to worry about money at all." Pheros leaned back in her chair and took a swig from a beer she had on the table. "You know, the Justicar asked me something the other day. He asked me what I would do if I had a million gold. I told him I would focus on helping the Archanean Liberation Front. I'd make sure our soldiers were properly supplied and equipped, and I'd work on improving the settlements we control. If we have a solid base, then we can expand from there."

Algol snickered. "Ha! I bet he ate that up. I'd say that to him to."

"I meant my answer, Algol."

"Whatever. Personally if I had a million gold, I'd hire mages from all over the land to help me with my necromancy."

"So you'd use the money for selfish gain?"

"Hey I'd be able to help the army more if I was stronger. What about you, Vasto? What would you do with a million gold?"

Vasto took a sip from his own beer and thought about it. "Hmm. What would I do with a million gold? I'd say… two wenches at the same time."

Pheros glared at him. "That's it?!"

"You want me to ask for more? You mean what like three wenches at the same time? I'm not going to lie, I don't think I have the stamina for that anymore." Vasto leaned back. "Yep. Wenches dig guys with money. They don't double up on middle aged guys like me."

Pheros shook her head and groaned. "It's a thought exercise, Vasto. The question is supposed to show how you think and how you plan for things."

"Aw come on. None of us really know what we'd do if we suddenly had that much money. In the meantime I'll just focus on the money I'm taking from you now."

Pheros glanced back to her drink. "That's what I get for gambling I suppose. I was having a good day too. Chrom and his companions were captured, and I just learned that Archangel herself is paying us a visit. This will make us look good in her eyes."

Vasto looked up at Pheros as he pulled his gold pile closer to him. "What do you have against Chrom anyways? I'm honestly not fond of how the Justicar has been treating him."

Algol looked up from his cards. "Don't get Pheros started on Chrom."

"What?" Vasto glanced back to Pheros to see that her expression had soured, to where he realized that her feelings on the card game were much milder in comparison. Pheros leaned back in her seat and took a sip from her beer.

"Let me ask you something Vasto, why would I like him? Why would anyone like him?"

Vasto knew that Pheros was trying to lead somewhere, but the question seemed innocent enough to him. "Well I kind of think he's a hero. He fought the Grimleal thirty years ago, and he helped people."

"For the Earth Mother's sake, Vasto, how does that make him a hero? A lot of people fought the Grimleal. Even Gangrel fought the Grimleal at first. Nowadays anyone who breaks the law is technically fighting against the Grimleal. Rapists and pickpockets and tax evaders are fighting against the Grimleal in a sense. Being willing to help others is just having empathy. I'm not going to call him a hero because he passes these really low bars for basic human decency. He's just an inbred, bourgeoisie parasite."

"Inbred?!"

"Think about it. When was the last time you saw a peasant with that kind of blue hair color? It's a recessive trait that his family passes down only because there's very little diversity in the blood pool."

"That's… that's ridiculous!" Vasto set down his cards, and Algol wasted no time in glancing at them. He scowled as he realized he was going to lose again. "I don't think your opinions on him are fair. He's a hero! He fights bad guys!"

Pheros' eye twitched, and Algol groaned. "Oh. Now you've done it."

"He fights bad guys?!" Pheros almost roared as she rose to her feet. "That's nonsensical. He's an enforcer for the feudal regime! Who did he fight? Huh?! _Who did he fight_?! He fought against brigands and pirates. He fought against the Grimleal. He fought against the armies of Plegia and Valm. Sure those enemies could be dangerous to the people of Ylisse, but he was really fighting enemies of the _state_. He didn't fight against the enemies of the _people_! The problems that they would deal with on a daily basis! He didn't fight to stop poverty, starvation, the corruption of the landed elite, or the feudal system that repressed people and kept them from being able to move up through society. It's easy to fight crime, but it's hard to address the economic inequalities that cause people to turn to crime. It's easy to destroy the armies of other countries to bring peace, but it's hard to realize that governments and borders inherently lead to war, and that the only way to permanently achieve peace is to unite our species under one government. A government that would represent all the people, and would be lead by a monarch that rose to the position through strength and merit, not because they inherited it! He's a hero, but not a hero of the people. He's a hero of an aristocratic elite that is built on the backs of the working class! He never did anything to help the masses! His story is a tale of privilege. He couldn't have done any of the things he did if he hadn't been born to the royal family. From the day he was born people just threw themselves at his feet for the slightest glance of his attention, and his warmongering, imperialistic father was proud of him simply because he wanted to take up the Falchion and kill people just as he did. As soon as he becomes a man, he uses his power and privilege to create a citizen militia that was loyal only to him. It had no oversight. Even Emmeryn didn't control it directly. He went wherever he wanted, and he killed whoever he wanted. Yes he fought against dangerous criminals, but nothing would have stopped him if he decided to start raping and pillaging. There was no accountability whatsoever! Nothing kept his militia in check except for his own personal morality. A military is built on discipline, but his militia had no oversight! None! He was a rich and powerful man, born into privilege, that went around with an army that did whatever he wanted killing poor people because he believed that the greatest threats to the common man came from obvious problems like brigands and pirates, and not from more complicated social issues like income inequality, the corruption of a feudal system, or having a small group of elites that hoarded wealth, influence, and education to control the masses. He's a conservative wet dream. I mean forming a personal army loyal only to you because you disagree with the government's pacifistic policies and leading that army around with no government oversight whatsoever? Having that army revolve entirely around you, doing whatever you say because they're so obsessed with you, and even marrying a woman from your army? It's a teenaged boy's juvenile ego trip. He was not a hero! He was nothing more than an inbred, blue blooded, bourgeoisie, libertarian, conservative, feudalistic, warmongering male power fantasy!"

Vasto stared blankly at Pheros as she took heavy breaths. There was a long period of silence before he could bring himself to speak. "Yeesh, Pheros! I'm surprised you still have any blonde hairs left with all that stress you're keeping inside you."

Pheros sat back down and rubbed her forehead. "Yeah well, I do find new gray hairs every once in awhile."

Keith walked in before the three could return to their card game, and they scrambled to stand at attention. Keith wasted no time in issuing his commands. "Vasto! I need you. Assemble your wyvern riders and meet me outside the keep."

"Wh-what? Now?"

"Yes now."

"Can it wait a few minutes?"

"No."

Vasto tried to pocket his gold, but Algol slammed his fist on the table. "Hey! If you're leaving then you forfeit your gold!"

"I won it fair and square!"

"You're leaving in the middle of the game, so you didn't win anything!"

Keith choked back his growing frustration. He never allowed himself any such vices, and he barely tolerated it among his subordinates. "I need him now, Algol! Just let him take his winnings so he can get moving!"

"Ha!" Vasto quickly pocketed his gold and followed the Justicar out of the room. Algol sank back into his chair.

"Well there he goes with our money. This is your fault, Pheros! You probably attracted the Justicar with your talk about populism and the feudal regime and all that crap. Political extremists always congregate around arguments like that, just as flies always find their way to dung."

Pheros finished off her beer. "You know what, Algol? I'm not going to take that from a man in his sixties that doesn't wear a shirt."

Keith lead Vasto back to Tiki's cell. "It's time, Vasto. Take Tiki to the rendezvous point. We'll exchange her with the third party, and they'll begin the process of collecting the bounty."

"Wait, what? I'm supposed to move her now? How can I move that thing?"

"That is a mobile cell. See those hooks along the top? Tie ropes to them, and then attach those ropes to your wyverns. You should be able to airlift it out of here."

"What?! You want my wyvern riders to literally fly her out?"

"That thing isn't fitting on a carriage."

"Can't we just move her like we would a normal human being?!"

"She's not a normal human being now is she?! She's very powerful. I'm not going to take that chance. She can't escape this way, and no one will be able to intercept you."

Vasto looked solemnly at the mobile cell, knowing what was inside of it. "This… this doesn't feel right, Justicar. Tiki has done great things for humanity. She's the daughter of Naga! This is horrible!"

Keith stepped towards Vasto. It's possible that he was trying to be reassuring, but his tone and body language came across as threatening. "We need that money. Think of how many soldiers we could save. Think of all the Archanean Liberation Front soldiers who have had to abandon positions because they didn't have the supplies to maintain them. Think of all the soldiers we've lost because they were completely outgunned. Think of how effective we could be if the average soldier had grenades, firearms, steel weapons and armor, and tomes instead of spears, short swords, and repurposed civilian equipment. Think of how many more wyvern riders we could get. Think of all the fortifications we could make for our settlements. How many lives we could save. Think of all the major cities we could capture from the Grimleal. Think of all the plants and animals we could import from areas where they're not extinct. Think of all the soldiers fighting on empty stomachs that could be fed. We need to do this. The hopes and dreams of all the Archanean Liberation Front rest on your shoulders."

Vasto thought about it and slowly nodded. "It will be done, Justicar."

Vasto and his wyvern riders finished their preparations after about an hour. They tied the mobile cell to ten wyverns, and they slowly but surely began to fly away with it. Vasto and the rest of his wyvern riders escorted them as they departed.

* * *

Outside of the keep's walls, in Fort Morgan's main courtyard, Mustafa stood over a group of recruits. He carefully watched as they struck at wooden dummies with their melee weapons, and he was quick to lecture them if he had issue with their form. He did praise them if he thought that they were improving, but this happened only rarely. They were but recruits after all. A young woman in particular struggled to hold her sword. After accidentally letting go of it in mid swing, she finally went up to Mustafa in frustration. Mustafa was a strict teacher, and his physical appearance often made him seem intimidating. The woman was dwarfed by him, but Mustafa tried to put on a kind and sympathetic smile. He wanted his troops to feel that they could always come to him.

"Mustafa, sir." The woman panted. "This bites! I don't want to be a foot soldier! I'm not made for this kind of thing!"

"Fear not. Wars are not won by soldiers, but by entire militaries. There are always other roles we could find for you."

"Then why do I need to learn combat training?"

"We all need to be able to defend ourselves. If your position is attacked, you must contribute to its defense, as well as to your own safety."

"I can't do this! My arms are going to fall off!"

Mustafa nodded his head to reassure the recruit, but he was actually considering the situation. "How about this. If you can give me thirty push ups, right now, then _everyone_ is done for the day."

The other recruits overheard the conversation and started to yell at the woman. Some shouted words of encouragement. Others barked and spat out considerably less friendly words. Everyone wanted her to succeed though. She gave a determined look and attempted the endeavor, but the already exhausted woman only made it to nineteen before giving up. Her comrades jeered at her, but Mustafa silenced them by raising his arm. "I… this isn't fair!"

"Ah but see how close you were? Though you claimed to be devoid of strength, you were able to perform beyond the limitations you set for yourself through determination. Such is combat training. You may not see yourself as a warrior, but through determination you can find a greater power than what you have now. You must find that inner resolve. With it you will be able to further our cause, and with soldiers like that our victory will be guaranteed." Mustafa turned to see Henry walking towards him, smiling as always. Mustafa had always liked Henry. He reminded him of his long deceased son, and being around him had always helped to make his death less painful. Being with Henry and Vasto now also reminded Mustafa of what things had been like before the Fell Dragon destroyed the old world. "Ah, Henry!" Having heard stories of his capabilities, and of the things he had done to prisoners, the recruits all backed away from Henry, but Mustafa approached him eagerly. He walked a few meters away and retrieved a small sack lying next to his axe. He handed it to Henry. "You asked before if I had any peaches? You know it's becoming harder and harder to requisition these, but I know how much you liked them."

"Hey! Thanks!" Henry took them and enthusiastically weighed them. "Just like old times!"

"Yes, Henry. Being around you always reminds me of better days."

"You mean being in Gangrel's army? Back when he was just a king instead of an emperor?"

"Not necessarily, but definitely before the Grimleal took over the world. So what can I do for you?"

Henry's smile faded slightly as he thought about what happened with Ophelia. "Well… remember how my wife and son died with the other Shepherds?" He said in a softer tone than usual.

"Yes. I… I'm sorry. Did Chrom remind you of them?"

"It's more than that. That mage. Ophelia. She's my granddaughter, remember? I thought I was alone… again… but then she shows up. Now I want to get to know her. To be there for her." Henry looked down. "Owain always talked about how he lost me when he was still young. Now Ophelia is already an adult, and I wasn't able to be there for her either. I… i just want to help her. To be part of her life."

Mustafa had known many soldiers in his time, and he seen many of them lose loved ones. It was something he was hardened towards, but that bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach he felt when he listened to their stories never went away. "That's very noble, Henry. I'm glad you found someone in the end, and I'm glad you're trying to be with your family now."

"Well that's the thing." Henry rubbed the back of his head. "I want to be with my granddaughter, but she's kind of afraid of me."

"Afraid of you? Did you do something horrible in front of her? Did you curse one of her friends or melt a guard?"

"What? No! I haven't melted anyone in days! I just wanted to make a connection with her, so I told her about what you can do with dark magic. She's very skilled with it. I can sense it in her. If she let me train her, I could make her a really great dark mage! I just wanted to inspire her by sharing some of my best curses, but she became afraid for some reason. I have no idea why!"

Mustafa thought of his words carefully. "Henry… you've always been different. You're a brilliant soldier, and you take life so easily, but you don't do it out of malice. Remember what I told you all those years ago?"

"I remind you of your son?"

"No. Not that."

"Don't buy birdhouses from Campari?"

"No."

"Ylisse hates it when we practice spells on their villagers?"

"No! People don't like it when you show just how easy killing and violence comes to you. Your granddaughter might have been horrified by the curses you told her about."

"So I've… lost her?"

"Not necessarily." Mustafa put his hand on Henry's shoulder. "You're her family. You say that she's all you have left, but she probably doesn't have anyone either. I'm sure she wants to be with you. You just have to show her that you really care."

Henry perked up. "I think I know how to do that. Thanks, Mustafa. I feel a lot better now."

Mustafa gave a heartfelt smile, happy to know that he had helped somehow. "Of course."

"She stopped talking to me after I told her about the curse I used to force people into serving the Arch Surg, so I'll just undo it. Then all the people I slowly tortured into being loyal soldiers would be free, and I'd be showing her that I do care about her. On top of that, the freed soldiers will surely be upset, and they'll probably attack everyone else in the Fort. I get to make up with my granddaughter, and I get to watch a lot of killing. This is going to be a great day!" Henry casually picked up the sack of peaches and walked away while humming to himself. Mustafa didn't put too much thought into his exact words until he had already left.

"Wait what? Curse that forced people to join the Archanean Liberation Front? Undoing it? Angry soldiers attacking the fort? Oh gods. What exactly did you do to be made an officer, Henry?"

* * *

Back in their stone cell, Ophelia and Caeldori tended to Soleil. There was little they could do for her with whatever was available to them. Even Caeldori had no idea how to treat her. Soleil seemed to display symptoms of going into shock, but it was her very life energy, rather than blood, that her body had lost. Ophelia and Caeldori just tried to make her as comfortable as possible, and eventually her body recovered on its own. After a terrifying hour of unconsciousness or spasming, Soleil finally opened her eyes again. Her eyes were drawn to Caeldori, and slowly her smile returned. Caeldori smiled back. She tried to stay stoic as always, but the joy and relief she was suppressing made her voice quiet and high pitched. "Thank gods. Don't ever scare us like that again."

Soleil's voice was weak, but she managed a response. "You… took care of me?"

"Of course."

"Mmm. Will you put on a nurse's outfit for me then?"

Caeldori attempts to struggle back her feelings became more genuine, and her smile became much less pronounced. "Yeah. She's back to normal alright."

"Please tell me you're okay!" Ophelia asked, trying but failing to hide the urgency in her voice. Soleil tried to speak more confidently, but she was too weak to arise her voice.

"Hrng. Gods, ah. I'm, I'm fine. Really. What happened to me?"

"That dark mage did something to you." Caeldori responded. She rubbed her face, as if guilty that he had sacrificed Soleil for her. "He said it was dark healing. He healed some of my injuries. The ones that a healing staff couldn't fix. They didn't even scar."

"But what did he do to me?"

Ophelia hung her head. "He said that dark healing needed a sacrifice. He drained energy or, or something from you to heal Caeldori. He said you'd be fine, but I can't believe he'd just do that to you. To anyone."

Soleil struggled to sit up, and Caeldori helped her sit against the wall. "Isn't that man your grandfather?"

"Yeah. He said I inherited an affinity for dark magic." Ophelia looked down at her hands, staring at them like they were dangerous weapons. "I don't want to be a dark mage. Not if it means doing things like that to people. I want to use magic to help."

"But dark magic can be used to help people. I helped your friend didn't I? Her face isn't as red as her hair anymore."

The girls looked up to see Henry smiling at them through the bars. None of them were happy to see him. "Go away! What do you want with us?!" Ophelia yelled. Henry's expression didn't change.

"I just want to help you guys. You're my granddaughter." Henry looked over to Soleil and Caeldori. "And you're my granddaughter's friends, and the grandchildren of my old friends. It's like we're meant to be together!" Henry and the girls looked over at the sound of an armored man sprinting towards the cell. He stopped to catch his breath after reaching the cell, and he tried to look intimidating as Henry walked over to him.

"Hey, *pant* st-stop! Damn it! Stop!"

"Oh hey there. I haven't seen you since the last time I visited my granddaughter and her friends. How's it going?"

"You know you're not supposed to be down here, Henry! The Justicar doesn't want you near prisoners unless he authorizes it. You and Algol have a real problem with keeping prisoners alive."

"I'm not going to kill these ones!"

Soleil rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah no. No he would never hurt us. I can't imagine why anyone would think that."

"You need to leave!" The guard readied his weapon. "And don't think you can melt my armor again! Pheros put a ward on it, so your curses won't work. You'll also be reprimanded for what happened!"

"You're right. I can tell my curses won't work on you." Henry drew a tome. "But that doesn't mean I can't hurt you the old fashioned way." Henry flicked his wrist, and a lightning bolt tore through the man. He fell over gurgling and spasming. "Ha! Oh this day isn't turning out so bad after all!"

The girls stared blankly at the man's corpse. "Err-" Soleil choked out as she rose to her feet. "You guys saw that right?!"

Henry walked back to the bars, an innocent smile still on his face. He didn't seem to care that the girls were now terrified of him. "So anyways, dark magic can help people."

Ophelia put on a brave face and stepped towards Henry. "Please. Leave us alone."

"But we're family!"

"You hurt Soleil, and you just murdered a man in front of us! Please. Leave."

"Wait! Look I've been thinking about our earlier conversation. I realize now that you're scared of me because of that curse I told you about. The one where I can mentally torture people into thinking anything?"

"And because you just murdered a man!" Caeldori shouted back.

"AND BECAUSE YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!" Soleil added.

"I did that to fix your friend's face! I thought you'd be happy? Anyways, I know how to make it up to you."

Ophelia was unmoved. "Leave!"

"Wait hold on!" Henry raised his hand, and a strange bluish-white light began to circle around it. The light was incredibly bright, but it was also eerie to look at. Staring at it filled the girls with a sickly feeling. "That curse wasn't permanent! I can reverse it. I really want to help you guys. If you don't think using that curse was the right think to do, then I'll undo it. Right now."

"You can… do that?"

"Yeah. Everyone in the Fort will be freed. They'll be able to think about other things again."

"You would really do that for us?"

"I want to be with you!" Henry looked down, and his smile seemed to fade slightly. "All my life I've been told that I was different. I see now that I just have a hard time seeing when I'm scaring people, or when I've done something horrible. It doesn't help that I grew up in a violent time period. Chrom and Lissa's father was waging his crusade against Plegia when I was growing up, and Gangrel rose to power by promising to make Plegia strong enough to resist Ylissean attacks. Dark mages were in high demand. I promise that dark magic can be used to help people. It's just that when I was young, people only wanted me to kill. I was good at it, it's fun, and I wasn't close to anyone." Henry looked Ophelia in the eyes. "When I met your grandmother, I found someone that I could really connect with. She was comfortable around me, and she wasn't scared of me, even after I told her that I killed birds for her."

"What?!"

"I'll tell you later. I loved her. She made me realize what had been missing in my life. I want to be with my family now. I… I couldn't always be there for Owain in his timeline, and now I see that you grew up without me. I really want to help you. I want to be part of your life. I'm sorry if I did something that made you afraid I'd hurt you."

"You did hurt me!" Soleil yelled.

"I was trying to help! I didn't mean to hurt you." Henry closed his fist, and the light around his hand became blinding for a few seconds. "There. The curse is lifted. All the soldiers in the Fort I tortured into joining are free."

Ophelia wasn't sure what to think. She turned back to Soleil and Caeldori. Soleil was still angry. Caeldori clearly didn't trust him, but she was more unsure. "This could be our only way out, Ophelia."

Ophelia turned back to her grandfather. "Thank you. Wait… how do we know you actually did anything?"

"Well the soldiers are able to remember their past lives now, so they'll remember that they were cursed. They'll probably be mad, like shoot up the place mad. About a third of all the soldiers here will lashing out at anything and everything pretty soon. It'll be a bloodbath! Neat huh?"

"Gods?!"

"Don't worry. It'll take time before they realize that the mental pain they always feel when think about anything but the Arch Surg is gone. We should have time to escape." Henry reached out his arm, and the cell door began to groan and shake. He moved his hand, and the hinges were destroyed with the horrible screech of metal being pulled and rended apart. Henry then telekinetically gripped the cell door and swung it outwards. "Wait, escape is what you wanted right?"

"Uhh-" Ophelia struggled to speak, as she was now as amazed and exited as she was scared. "Yes." She said in a flat and shocked tone.

"Oh that's good. I wouldn't want to break the cell door for no reason." Henry and the girls turned to see two soldiers running at the group. Their weapons were drawn, and they didn't look like they were interested in speaking. The girls tensed up and readied themselves, but Henry just nodded his head. The first soldier's throat suddenly exploded in a mess of blood, and he fell over gurgling for only a few seconds before dying. Other than the Tunneller attack on Veslil, Ophelia didn't think she'd ever seen something more disturbing in her life, or at least until Henry nodded his head again and made the second soldier spontaneously combust. Her body erupted into flame and ruptured.

"Gods!" Caeldori exclaimed. Soleil stepped closer to Ophelia.

"Err, can you do that?"

"No!"

Henry overheard and turned around. "But she could." He smiled warmly and held out his hand. "If she let me show her."


	25. The Heroines of Yore

Chrom and Gaius had been passing the time in their cell, pacing around and occasionally making small talk, when Mustafa and Old Hubba came up to them in a hurry. Mustafa was somewhat bloodied, and both men looked very alarmed. Mustafa began unlocking the cell door, and Chrom and Gaius shot up and approached in confusion. "What's happening?!" Chrom demanded. "What is this?!" Chrom and Gaius were worried ever since Old Hubba told them about executions, and they backed away as Mustafa entered their cell. He didn't get any closer to them, and he made it clear he wasn't there to hurt them.

"There's a rebellion outside! About a third of our soldiers have gone mad! They're lashing out at everyone else. My own recruits turned on me! Ganged up on me and tried to kill me in any way they could. This is happening all over the fort!"

Chrom and Gaius looked to each other in confusion. Gaius callously snickered, but Chrom stepped closer to Mustafa. "The fort has gone mad? Is this some kind of jest?"

"Does it look like I'm lying?!" Chrom looked Mustafa up and down. His injuries were actually more severe than Chrom first thought. Mustafa was just tough enough to ignore them. He was covered in cuts and gashes, and a lesser man likely would have fallen by then. Chrom didn't think Mustafa was lying, but that didn't mean he trusted him.

"Why are you freeing us?" He asked in a wary tone.

"Because the rebels are attacking everything in sight! I have little doubt that they'd murder you in your cell if they found you here. I won't let defenseless prisoners be killed."

Gaius shook his head. "This is some kind of trick. You're just trying to move us again."

"These rebels are not acting rationally! You think they carefully select their targets?! You think they won't kill you?! Come then! See this rebellion for yourselves." Mustafa stepped aside and left the door open for the two.

"We're not going anywhere with you!" Gaius shouted. "Arch Surg officers have lied about problems before to lure us into traps!"

Old Hubba stepped out from behind Mustafa. "Would you rather stay in this cell forever? From what you know of Pheros, Farber, and the Justicar, do you think they'd ever free you like this? Do you think we're working for them? We're trying to help you!"

Mustafa looked at them sympathetically. "I am a man of honor, Chrom. I trusted you to spare my men once, and that trust was well placed. I'm asking you to trust me now."

Chrom didn't believe that Mustafa was following orders from Pheros, Farber, or Keith, but that didn't mean he trusted him. Even if Mustafa didn't intend to hurt him and Gaius, he still had ruthless superiors. More than thirty years ago, Mustafa had asked Chrom and his Shepherds to surrender. Though Mustafa had offered him mercy, and even revealed that Emmeryn's sacrifice had made him lose faith in the war, Chrom refused this offer not just because he wanted vengeance against Gangrel, but because he didn't trust Gangrel to treat them fairly. The same situation was true here. Even if Mustafa didn't want to hurt them, the other Arch Surg officers couldn't be trusted to treat them well. On the other hand, he had nothing to gain from staying in the cell. "I don't know."

"I ask only that you come with us, so that you may see the destruction of this rebellion. Once you see that, you will know how important it is for you to escape as quickly as possible. However, I will not force you to do anything."

Chrom looked back to Gaius, and he responded with a simple shrug. He clearly didn't trust Mustafa either, but a part of him was eager to leave the cell. Chrom slowly turned to Mustafa and nodded. "Alright, we'll go with you. But I want to be armed."

"I'm afraid the rebels have cut us off from the armory. That's where the Justicar is keeping your weapons. We cannot break through them now."

"We're not trusting you if we can't be armed."

"Hold on!" Old Hubba interrupted. "We have another weapon that can help you."

* * *

Mustafa and Old Hubba hadn't been lying. The Fort was being torn apart by a civil war between Arch Surg forces. On one side were the loyal soldiers who were mainly trying to hold their positions, and on the other side were the rebel soldiers trying to drive them out. Though they seemed to share a camaraderie of sorts, the rebelling soldiers lashed out at everything else. They gave no quarter to the Arch Surg forces they overran. They killed everyone in sight, even men and women who threw themselves to the ground and begged for mercy. They killed quickly and brutally, often preferring to hack people apart with whatever weapons they could get. The only reminder that they were even human was their preference for forming packs, and they could somehow tell each other apart from loyal Arch Surg soldiers. Groups of them joined together and formed larger mobs whenever they encountered each other, but they ruthlessly executed any loyal Arch Surg soldier that tried to switch sides. Chrom and Gaius were not spared their wrath, even though they had nothing to do with the Arch Surg, but Mustafa defended them. Chrom hadn't trusted Mustafa after being released from the cell, but watching him fight in his own defense even in spite of his many injuries made him realize that Mustafa truly wanted them to escape. Thankfully the group was only occasionally attacked, as the rebels were more interested in hitting fortified positions. They were quick to take heavy weapons and armor from Arch Surg forces, and they also focused on destroying buildings throughout the fort whenever they had the chance.

The group eventually managed to occasionally fight, but mostly sneak their way through the chaos, and Mustafa and Old Hubba lead Chrom and Gaius to a small warehouse at the fort's eastern edge. Mustafa quickly shut the door behind them as they entered and locked it, even though this left them with little light inside the building. Old Hubba ignited a lantern and used it to light several torches, allowing Chrom and Gaius to see what the warehouse was holding. In the center of the building was a massive metal and wooden contraption, about half the size of a hut. It had a large cannon protruding from the front, and massive wooden wheels along the side. Metal plating protected the front of the construction, and it didn't seem like it was designed to be pulled by animals. Chrom and Gaius stared at the machine in awe. "What is that thing?" Chrom eventually managed to ask.

Mustafa turned to the two. "Have you ever heard of the fairy tales about the mythical kingdoms of Hoshido and Nohr?"

"Of course."

"Ballisticians were used two thousand years ago in the Hero King's time, but back then they were largely catapults. The versions that appear in the legends of Hoshido and Nohr had gunpowder weapons built into them, and they could move on land like ships move in the sea. Farber became obsessed with them. He wanted to see if that kind of ballistician could be built in real life. This is the prototype."

"So this thing is like a mobile cannon? Does it work?"

"Yes. Fundamentally it's a big metal and wooden contraption with an even bigger gun that can move by itself. It's a secret project now, and I only know about it because I helped Farber with the field tests. Even Cervantes and Pheros are likely unaware of its existence. It's never been used against actual soldiers, but I think it's your best bet for surviving this."

"You've got to be kidding me." Chrom said blankly without looking away from the horrifying machine. Old Hubba hobbled over to Chrom and Gaius and smiled.

"Normally the Divine Dragons work in mysterious ways, but not today! That right there is a couple tons of dee-vine intervention! Naga's very own anti son of a harlot machine. That cannon fires high explosive cast iron shells that explode on contact, allowing you to take out multiple soldiers with a single shot. Bullets, arrows, and spells bounce right off the metal and wooden plating. You two are going to hop in that tank and roll over anyone dumb enough to get in your way. If Naga is love, then you're a bona fide aphrodisiac. Nothing will curb your holy blooded style."

"How does that thing even work?!"

"It only takes one person to drive it and fire the gun, but the cannon has a loading mechanism that works best with a second person." Mustafa replied.

Chrom shook his head. "I didn't think war could get any more destructive."

Gaius turned to him. "This thing could be our best bet for getting out of here alive. We can't fight all the soldiers outside on our own. If you don't want to drive, then I will." Gaius climbed on top of the weapon and opened the hatch. "Get in."

Chrom turned back to Mustafa and Old Hubba. "What about you two?"

"We'll follow behind you. We can't exactly help you fight against so many soldiers, but the ballistician should be more than enough. I promise we'll help you find your friends." Mustafa walked closer to Chrom and handed him a small object. "That is a sighting lens. It'll make aiming the gun much easier. Give it to your companion."

Chrom nodded and took the item. He climbed into the ballistician after Gaius and sat himself in the top seat. In front of him seemed to be the loading mechanism for the cannon. Gaius sat below him and began to fiddle with the controls. The machine roared to life, sputtering and vibrating. Gaius gave a wide smile. "Oh this is going to be fun."

Outside, many of the Arch Surg forces had rallied around Pheros, and she noticed Chrom and Gaius trying to escape even through the chaotic fighting. She gathered dozens of soldiers and moved to surround the warehouse they took shelter in. Chrom and Gaius were still figuring out the controls to the ballistician when her voice could be heard booming through the walls. "Chrom! We have you surrounded! If you know what's good for you, you'll come with us! Archangel will have you!"

"Aw man." Gaius said as he practiced moving the ballistician back and forth. "I need more time. How am I even supposed to aim the gun out of this tiny window?" Chrom handed him the sighting lens, and he realized that it fit above the controls. He could see outside more easily now. "Alright! Now how do I fire the gun?"

"That's it!" Pheros yelled to the warehouse. "You have until the count of ten! Ten… nine… eight… 7-6-5-4-3-2-1 okay move in soldiers!"

Pheros' forces paused and looked at each other nervously. One man looked up to Pheros. "You want us to go in there?!"

"Yes! Drag him out!"

"Err, I don't know. I mean those are Shepherds in there! They're really powerful! Gaius will shoot me, and Chrom will cut off my arms and use them as maracas!"

"Just get in there!"

"Let me ask you something. When normal guys like us go after heroes like Chrom, do we ever come out on top?"

"Don't put yourself down. You can fight him. You're a valued member of our army."

"Oh yeah? What's my name?"

"Uh… Smith...er...son...ton?"

"Smithersonton died two months ago!"

"Just go!"

"A good leader leads by example. Why don't you go in there first. We'll look to see where you die, and then we'll know where not to be."

"That's an order!"

Pheros' argument with her soldiers was interrupted by a thundering blast. The door leading to the warehouse exploded, raining shrapnel down on the group. They looked back up to find the ballistician staring directly at them, and Mustafa and Old Hubba quickly moved to be behind it. "Oh." Gaius muttered. "That's how."

Pheros was more curious than afraid. As Mustafa had predicted, she didn't know what the weapon was, but by chance one of her soldiers had once helped Farber with a field test. He knew exactly what was facing him. "They've got the ballistician! Every man for himself!"

The man broke rank and fled. "Get back here, soldier!" Pheros barked.

"I'm a cowardly fool!"

Gaius fiddled with the controls, but the gun wouldn't fire a second time. "Chrom? Didn't Mustafa say the loading mechanism was with you? Load me another shell!"

"S-sure." Chrom was quite horrified by what the ballistician had done to the door. Angry as he was with the Arch Surg, he had no desire to see the weapon used against people. Gaius was right though. This was the only way out, and it could be the only way to save the girls. He thought about them as he fiddled with the few controls on his seat, rather than the destruction he was about to unleash. Eventually he managed to open up a loading mechanism, and he took a shell from next to his seat and inserted it. He pulled on a lever, and mechanical noises could be heard as the shell was presumably loaded into the cannon. Another shell popped up by his seat, waiting for its turn to be inserted into the cannon, and Chrom shivered as he realized just how much destruction the weapon was capable of. "Okay! It's ready!"

Gaius smiled as he brought the cannon down on Pheros, who still wasn't quite sure what she was looking at. He brought his face to the viewing port and yelled out of it. "Hey! Crazy lady! Knock knock!" He fired the gun, and an explosion erupted from the ground near the soldiers. Two unfortunate ones were blown apart, their bodies unable to handle the amount of energy and force suddenly acting on them. Many others were visibly injured by shrapnel, and the rest were blown backwards by the sheer force. Pheros' horse reared up and fell on its side, and Pheros was stuck under it. Chrom almost wanted to throw up, but Gaius was laughing. "Like candy from a babe!"

"Gaius! How can you be okay with this devastation?!"

"You're kidding right? This thing is awesome! Load me another shell! Load me another shell!" Gaius responded in an eager tone. Chrom reluctantly loaded another shell into the mechanism, and Gaius brought the ballistician around to face another group of soldiers. He fired, and once more an explosion tore the group apart. "Oh! Cut down in the _prime_ of existence!"

"You don't have to enjoy it so much!"

"I'm not going to lie to you! I'm kind of drunk on power with this thing right now!"

Chrom wasn't sure he wanted to load more shells, but he reminded himself that they were doing this to free themselves and the girls. Chrom also remembered that Tiki had been taken somewhere else, and this weapon was the only way they could get deeper into the fort. He loaded another shell, and Gaius spun the ballistician around to look for more targets. He laughed as soldiers scattered in all directions, and the few who fired on the ballistician found that their projectiles were deflected off the plating. "Oh baby! This thing is a river of chocolate in an ocean of cream! For once the good crap is on our side, Chrom, and I'm sure as hell going to enjoy it. Come get some you Arch Surg fops! We didn't get some of you thirty years ago, but I'm willing to try again!"

Mustafa and Old Hubba waited for most of Pheros' soldiers to scatter before leaving the warehouse. Mustafa drew his axe and approached Pheros. She had used her healing staff to treat most of her injuries, but she was still pinned under her deceased horse. For an instant her eyes lit up with hope when she noticed Mustafa approaching, but she quickly realized what he had done. She gave a faint smile and laughed in a defiant manner. "Are you expecting me to beg for assistance?"

"The tide has turned against you, Pheros. You can no longer bully and oppress innocent people. No longer will you abuse the power the people have given us to dominate those in your way. I suggest surrendering."

"Oh I'm quite prepared to fight to my last breath." Pheros said sarcastically. "This is but a minor injury. Have at thee."

Mustafa shook his head and lowered his axe. He knelt down. "I can help you, but only if you work with me."

"Why did you do it?" Pheros asked bitterly, ignoring his offer. "You said you believed in the necessity of our cause. Why turn on us?"

"I am a man of honor, Pheros. There is no lie in our cause. There must be a unified army to oppose the Grimleal. This is the only way to free humanity from its oppression." Mustafa looked her dead in the eye. "But that does not justify the cruelty we have unleashed on this land. The Justicar slays anyone who doesn't pledge allegiance to us when he takes a settlement. We bully and mistreat our prisoners, even when they've done nothing wrong. We allow dark mages to use curses that brainwash people into serving. That's why this revolt is taking place isn't it?! A curse was controlling these soldiers, and now it's worn off. That's why they're attacking isn't it?!" Mustafa didn't actually know what was making the soldiers rebel, but he knew enough about dark magic to guess. Pheros was fully aware of Henry's curse, and Mustafa could tell from her expression that his theory was correct. "We have no right to be like this."

Pheros smiled and slowly shook her head. "Look at me, Mustafa. I am just a merchant's daughter, and then a priestess, that had never held a weapon in her life before Walhart. Now I am a soldier. An officer. That is the strength of a cause. I believe in something greater than myself, and that has forged me into such a strong woman. You are abandoning humanity's one chance for freedom, and you're doing it for selfish reasons."

"There is no selfishness in honor. Fighting against the Grimleal doesn't give us the right to treat people this way!"

"Chrom has gotten to you hasn't he?"

"Why do you hate him so much, Pheros?"

Pheros briefly became angered, and she struggled against the horse. It wouldn't budge, so she calmed herself and lied back down. "He destroyed Walhart's Empire. His dream of a unified humanity. Of a world free from the tyranny of gods. I will never forgive him for it."

Mustafa extended his arm, hoping Pheros would take it as her arms were still free. "You don't have to be so consumed by hatred. Let go. The Justicar is always talking about building a better future. Maybe it's time to let go of the past."

Pheros didn't look at Mustafa. "Maybe."

"I can help you, but only if you help us. Come with me. You will order any Arch Surg soldiers that try to stop us to stand down, and we will treat you as a prisoner of war, but you'll be alive. You'll die if you stay here."

Pheros just laughed again. "You don't get it do you, Plegian? I believe in the Archanean Liberation Front. I have dedicated my life to it. I would never do anything to compromise it. I'm ready to die. Are you?"

Mustafa looked at Pheros with pity. She truly believed in her cause. For all the cruelty she was capable of, she didn't do it with malice in her heart. Mustafa thought about helping her anyways, but he was sure she'd try to stop him if freed. "Goodbye, Pheros." Mustafa walked away, and Old Hubba hurried after him. Pheros looked up to the sky.

"I will soon be with Walhart again. I'm sorry I couldn't save your dream, Emperor. At least I fought for the future."

Old Hubba caught up to Mustafa as he walked after the ballistician, taking advantage of the path it cleared. "Uh, are you sure we should have left her alive? She is still dangerous."

"It would be dishonorable to kill a helpless foe like that."

"Your stupid sense of honor is going to get us killed."

"My stupid sense of honor is the only reason why I'm doing this. Pheros isn't wrong. The Archanean Liberation Front could be our only hope for defeating the Grimleal. I see no other alternative. But I can't fight with an army that would commit such evils. Never again."

* * *

Henry and the girls made their way to Fort Morgan's armory after escaping. They hoped to get their armor and weapons before freeing Chrom and Gaius, and then leave the fort before the indoctrinated Arch Surg soldiers revolted. Henry hadn't realized how quickly the soldiers would actually rebel, and the group had just managed to retrieve their possessions before being caught up in the resulting war zone. The fighting forced them back to the fort's walls, and they'd been struggling to hold their ground ever since.

Ophelia had been separated from Soleil and Caeldori by the fighting, but she'd slowly managed to work her way back to their position. She could see the two in the distance, furiously holding their ground, but a loyal Arch Surg soldier armed with a short sword and an arm mounted shield was blocking her. Ophelia wasn't the least bit worried though. Having her Missiletainn tome again filled her with confidence. She also had both of the Falchions slung across her back, alongside Gaius' arquebus and the pistol Keith gave to Chrom. All the weapons weighed her down, but they also filled her with resolve. If anything she was giddy. She readied her tome with one hand and pointed her finger at the man with the other. She also set her legs at shoulder length apart and arched her back. "Hail, villain! You face Ophelia Dusk! Hero of light and shadow. What name embodies your depravity?!"

The soldier was a little confused, but he stood ready for battle. "Err… Jeff. My name's Jeff."

"Jeff! A stinging pain envelops me as this name assaults my ears! Truly you are a servant of vile darkness, but I am a champion of darkness! Come now, and face my arcane power as cursed blood, blood of heroes, flows through me! Burning me! Filling me with great and terrible strength. My blood! Oh, my blood! It aches for glorious COMBAT! Come Jeff! Dance with me a song of conquest and fate!"

Jeff the Arch Surg loyalist stared blankly at Ophelia. "Um… have you been in a fight before, lady?"

"Behold my divine strike of the holy blood! Hear me, ancestors! My power is radiated through the fabric of creation, and now I will-"

Jeff lunged forward and bashed Ophelia in the head with his shield. She managed to blast him backwards with a quick attack from her tome before he could stab her, but the attack was done in panic, and he was able to avoid most of it. He lunged forward again and struck Ophelia in the face with the butt of his sword. Ophelia was too disoriented to attack again, and the soldier surely would have killed her then and there had a lightning bolt not torn through his abdomen. So powerful was the magical attack that the electricity didn't even arc into the man. Instead the lightning bolt ripped through him, burning out of his body like a plasma. The man died instantly, and Ophelia furiously scurried backwards to escape the stench of burned flesh and hair that immediately followed. She tripped as she tried to rise to her feet, and then looked up to see an arm outstretched to help her up. "Grandfather?"

"Heyo there, Ophelia! You looked like you needed help."

Ophelia only felt fear at the sight of him, and she didn't take his hand. "T-thank you, grandfather. But… do you have to be so brutal?"

"Oh come on? What did I do wrong? I could've made his throat explode, but I knew you'd complain about getting blood on you."

"It's just… the way you killed that man. It… it doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel right that someone could have that power."

Henry withdrew his hand and thought about Ophelia's words. "Ophelia… you know I love you right?"

"Y-you do? W-we don't really know each other well."

"But you're family! I thought I was alone for so long, but now my granddaughter and brother in law show up! I want to help you, and I want you to realize your potential."

"My… potential?"

"You call yourself a mage, but a mage does not fear magic. Of any kind. A mage is always looking for new opportunities to learn. To increase their power. The lesser men fear what they do not understand, but us? We study it! Master it!" Henry knelt by Ophelia. "I know you're afraid of me. I'm sorry. My whole life people have been afraid of me. I just don't understand when other people are suffering, or when I've done something wrong, and my whole life I've been rewarded for killing. That's the strength of magic, Ophelia. Compare me to Chrom. Big hero, descended from a long line of big heroes. He inherited his place in the world, and everyone has had such high expectations of him since the day he was born. He was the leader of the Shepherds. He was the champion of humanity. He was going to bring peace to the world. Now look at me. My parents threw me away like a sack of garbage. I had nothing, but I became who I am through magic. Now I could kill him with the snap of my fingers. Now he's a dying old man, and I have only grown stronger." Henry glanced up and saw Soleil and Caeldori a few meters away. They were both locked in combat with Arch Surg soldiers. Henry just smiled and turned back to his granddaughter. "Now look at those two. So determined. So strong. But they won't be in their prime forever. Strength is fleeting, and they'll only get weaker. I've got years on them, and they're nothing compared to me. You could be like that, Ophelia. Magic, the ability to bend the fabric of reality to your will, that is power. You may stand by their side, but they are not your equals. You have the potential to be so much more. Don't fear dark magic, Ophelia. I know you're afraid of me, but dark magic didn't make me this way. Dark magic gave me the opportunity to be more than what I was, and it can give you the opportunity to be the hero you want to be. Chrom can help you, but don't look to him as what you could be. You have the potential to be so much more." Henry reached out his hand again. "I just want to help you."

Ophelia didn't know what to think. She just nervously took Henry's hand and he helped her up. Ophelia saw her friends in the distance, and to her horror Henry just stood there staring at them. "Grandfather…" Ophelia wanted to yell at Henry for his inaction, but she felt more nervous than anything around him. She could barely even speak to him. "C-can you help them?!"

"Are you sure? You don't seem to like it when I kill people in front of you."

"Grandfather!"

Henry shrugged. "If that's what you want."

Soleil and Caeldori were struggling against the two Arch Surg soldiers they had been engaging. Caeldori eventually exploited an opening in the man's defense and brought him down with a strike to the chest, but Soleil was still unable to overcome her foe. "Argh! This one's for all the babes I'm not hitting up because I'm stuck here fighting you jackholes!" Soleil put all her strength into a sword slash, but the man caught it with his shield and forced himself closer to Soleil. He brought her to her knees with a shield bash to the head, and she was only saved by Caeldori driving her lance into the man. Caeldori helped Soleil to her feet, but the two looked up to see more soldiers approaching, and they were surrounded on all sides. They readied their weapons and stood back to back. "C-Caeldy? I… I don't-"

"We'll be fine, Soleil."

"If we don't… if we don't make it-"

"Caeldori just tightened her prosthetic's grip on her lance and readied herself. "Soleil." She said in a commanding tone.

"Right, let's just… let's just get ready." The two raised their weapons and prepared to move at a moment's notice, only to see a lightning bolt strike one of the men. This time the electricity arced into all the soldiers, burning them to death before they even hit the ground. Soleil and Caeldori stood motionless, not entirely sure of what just happened. "Caeldy… did you just see that?!"

"Quit calling me Caeldy… and yes."

The two turned to see Henry walking towards them, electricity still cracking off his arm. Ophelia ran up by him, and the two were relieved at the sight of her. "I'm so glad you're all okay!"

"No thanks to grandpa Grimleal over here!" Soleil said as she stepped closer to Henry. "You said we'd have more time!"

"He doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the Grimleal! Dark magic is a perfectly natural thing!" Ophelia said, jumping to his defense.

"Sorry guys." Henry said innocently. "Do you still want to look for Chrom and Gaius, or can we just ditch them?"

"Of course we still need to find them, grandfather!"

"Hey I'm just asking!"

Ophelia shook her head and quickly glanced around. She expected more reinforcements to appear, but all the Arch Surg soldiers she could see were running deeper into the fort. Soleil smiled again at the sight of it and rested on her sword. "Ha! That's right you cowards! Run!"

Caeldori looked warily towards the base of the wall. "Soleil… I don't think they're running because of us." She pointed towards the ground, and the four looked on in fear as a massive metal and wooden _thing_ lumbered towards them. No one, not even Henry, was sure what it was, but they recognized the cannon pointed towards them. They nervously backed away from the wall's edge and raised their weapons, if only to make themselves feel better, as the contraption moved forward. It finally stopped just at the base of the wall, and the hatch opened. A man with fading blue hair stuck his head out, and he smiled at the sight of everyone. "Chrom!" Caeldori exclaimed.

"Caeldori!"

Soleil walked forward. "What is that thing?"

"Hell if I know, but we're using it to escape." Chrom exited the ballistician, and Gaius also climbed out of it a few seconds later. He made his way up one of the wall's towers, reappeared on the wall itself, and greeted the group by hugging Ophelia. Chrom didn't feel it was appropriate to do the same with Caeldori and Soleil, but he was just as excited to see them. His eyes met with Caeldori's, and her stoic look melted away as a heartfelt smile took her. Chrom smiled back, but it faded a little as his eyes locked with Soleil's. Chrom wasn't sure where he stood with Soleil. The last time the two had a real conversation together was when Cordelia had urged the girls to tell Chrom how they felt after they learned the truth of what happened thirty years ago. Soleil took the opportunity to lay into Chrom and Cordelia, and the two had only been together in the presence of others since then. Chrom was still relieved to see her, and he could tell that Soleil felt the same way, but there was a stinging awkwardness to the moment. Chrom smiled sheepishly before turning to Henry, and an even stranger feeling enveloped him then. Just as with Gaius and Cordelia, Chrom felt guilt at the sight of him, but he was also relieved to see him safe. It also dawned on him that Henry must have been helping the girls escape, and that made him even happier to see him. As little as they had interacted thirty years ago, Chrom felt an urge to hug him too. "I'm so glad you're all safe!"

"Hey! We were just talking about you!" Henry said eagerly. "What is that thing? Some kind of weapon?"

"It's something Farber built. I don't really know much about it, but it's basically a moving, armored gun."

"And damn if it isn't fun!" Gaius said cheerfully as he followed Chrom up the wall. "Junior! Third gens! Look at that! We don't have to save you ourselves!"

"But we do need to get Tiki. She isn't here." Caeldori replied. "She wasn't anywhere in the prison cells."

"Of course not." Henry said as he looked over to the fort's citadel. "They kept her in her own cell. It's a mobile cell. Designed to be moved."

Chrom was reminded that Henry was an officer with the Arch Surg. "Henry… do you know what they want with Tiki?"

"Yeah. The Grimleal have a bounty on her head, so the Justicar wanted to collect on the money."

Chrom froze. "They'll… sell her?! To the Grimleal?!"

"Through proxies of course. Also they aren't going to sell her. They've already sold her."

" ** _WHAT_**?!"

"They moved her cage awhile ago. Sorry, Chrom. There was nothing I could do. I thought about trying to stop it." Henry looked at Ophelia. "But I was afraid you'd be hurt."

"Damn it, Henry!" Gaius barked. "Why didn't you tell us before?!"

"You didn't ask. Besides I wasn't supposed to tell you that kind of stuff."

"You're helping us now!"

"But I didn't know if I would at the time. I liked my job."

Chrom didn't say anything more. He just fell to his knees and stared off into space for almost a minute. He didn't speak again until Ophelia started shaking him. "She's gone. I… I failed her."

"Chrom please."

"NOO!" Chrom ran his hands through his hair and seemed to pull at it. "How many more of them am I going to fail?!"

"Please don't!" Ophelia knelt in front of her great uncle and looked him in the eye. "Please stop! I know it's horrible, but we need you now!"

"Gods, Ophelia." Chrom's voice was shaky, and only his rage kept him from breaking down in tears. "I'm not fit to lead you. I keep failing people who depend on me!"

"It's not your fault we're here, but we need you to escape now!" Ophelia drew one of the Falchions she had sheathed on her back, and she presented it to Chrom. "Please. We've been through this before. I know it hurts to see your old allies gone, but we need you now! Don't do this now! We are not getting out of here without you!"

Chrom looked up and saw his reflection in the Falchion. He saw it twisted with rage and sorrow. The emotions bearing down on him were crippling, and he hated himself at that moment. At first he had tried to turn away from Ophelia and the others before they got close to him. Now he wanted nothing more than to protect them, but he didn't think he could. He felt nothing but weakness in that moment, and his mind involuntarily flashed back to another point in his life.

 _Chrom wasn't a man anymore. He was a small child, four years old. In a few more months he would be five and his father would die suddenly, leaving Emmeryn as Exalt. Chrom didn't know that yet. All he knew now was that his father never visited him much. He was almost always away, fighting in Plegia. The nobles were always talking about the war, and Chrom even heard his Nan talking about it sometimes. Chrom was too young to care much for the war. He only cared that his father was almost never there anymore._

 _But he had returned. Chrom looked up to see his face. Caracalla was an intimidating man, especially when wearing his full armor. The Exalt wore gold plate armor with blue trimmings. Ornate as it was, it was fully practical. A stark white cape flowed outwards from behind, and the Mark of Naga was emblazoned on the back of it. Caracalla himself greatly resembled Chrom as an older man, but he had harsher features and a number of battle wounds on his skin. He also had a blue beard, thick and running along the bottom of his face, but without any neck hair or mustache. However the brand of the Exalt could still be seen on his right cheek. He was handsome but intimidating. Heroic yet commanding. Chrom himself was similarly conflicted at the sight of him. His father was strict and could be very abusive, but Chrom was still a little boy. He loved his father just for being his father, no matter how he acted. Caracalla set his blue eyes down on his son, and Chrom smiled at the attention. He walked over to his father, fully intending to embrace him, but Caracalla didn't kneel down. Instead he drew his Falchion, symbol of Ylisse and a weapon that the Exalt used frequently in combat, and lowered the blade to the ground. Chrom stopped in front of the blade, staring at his own reflection. He looked back up to his father, unsure of what to think. "F-father?"_

 _"Do you know what this is, boy?" Caracalla spat in a stern voice. Chrom's joy at the sight of his usually absent father was rapidly fading._

 _"Y-your sword?"_

 _"What is its name?"_

 _"Falchion." Chrom looked back to the sword. "That's the Falchion."_

 _"Yes. Symbol of the Exalt. Passed down by our ancestors for thousands of years. I inherited this blade from your grandfather, Heraclius. Do you know who will get it when I am no longer Exalt?"_

 _"E-Emmeryn?"_

 _"She is supposed to inherit it from me. She is supposed to take it, as her ancestors have taken it for thousands of years." Caracalla stepped forward. "But she doesn't want it. Even now as she is just years away from legal adulthood, she still refuses it as she did when she was a young girl. She truly does not want anything to do with my legacy."_

 _"Why not, father?" Chrom already knew the answer. Emmeryn had talked to him before about how much she disagreed with her father's policies. Chrom was too young to really have an opinion. He just agreed with his father when talking to him, and he agreed with Emmeryn when talking to her. He only cared about spending time with his family members. Even now he only asked the question to be closer to his father, as he wanted to be part of the conversation. To show he cared about what his father cared about._

 _"She believes that pacifism should be the future of our people. She believes we should discard our militaristic ways. She refuses to take this blade, her birthright, because she sees it as a symbol of violence."_

 _As a young man, Chrom would disagree with this. He believed that a country should be able to defend itself, and he formed the Shepherds because of this. Now though, as a four year old, Chrom disagreed simply to be closer to his father. "I don't think that's right. We should be able to fight bad guys!"_

 _Caracalla gave a faint smile. "Indeed. If only your sister knew what evil Plegia hides. What abominations are about to be released."_

 _"W-what?"_

 _"I can't tell you that, boy. You're just too young. You'll know one day."_

 _Chrom was beginning to wonder what the conversation was about, and he nervously glanced around. "So… if Emmeryn won't get the sword… who will?"_

 _"In the past, you told me you might be interested in it. I see now that my daughter truly wants nothing to do with it, and there's no point forcing it on her. For generations the Exalt has wielded the Falchion, but this sword is meant to protect Ylisse. It's meant to be used by a warrior who will defend our people. There's no point giving it to her." Caracalla knelt down, and he carefully laid the Falchion down so that the handle was pointed towards Chrom. "So now I'm asking you to make that decision. Do you want to take up this blade?"_

 _Chrom had told his father he wanted to take up the Falchion before, but he did it for childish reasons. He thought it looked cool, and he could tell it was what his father really wanted. Now though, he realized how significant this choice was. He reached out and took the sword, but it was for too heavy for him to move it. "I can't lift it, father!"_

 _Caracalla gave a brief chuckle, and he gently ran his finger along the blade as Chrom held it. "No you're far too young to use it now, but the blade is sharp in your hands. You are worthy of this blade. As worthy as the Hero King or the First Exalt. As worthy as Emmeryn. As worthy as I."_

 _"When would you give it up? What will you use?"_

 _"I will still use this sword, boy. I am still Exalt. I will give it up one day though. It may seem like a long time from now to you, but you will be a man soon. You will wield this blade, and I will have you start training with it as soon as possible." Caracalla took the Falchion and held it up again. "If you choose to take it."_

 _Chrom's mind wandered, and he thought about his mother. In a few months his younger sister Lissa would be born. Chrom still wasn't sure how he felt about having a younger sibling. "What will happen if I say no?"_

 _"I'll offer it to your younger sibling when your weak mother finally gives birth, assuming they survive."_

 _Chrom paid little mind to that comment at the time. It was common for his mother and father to put each other down. As an adult Chrom would be saddened at these memories, but his younger self just thought it was normal. "What if they don't want it?"_

 _"Then a tradition dies." Caracalla eyed his son. "Do you not want it?"_

 _"I… don't know."_

 _"You're uncertain?"_

 _Chrom knew what his father wanted, but he understood that he was making a very significant decision. He tried to articulate his feelings as best as he could considering his youth. "It's just… I'm not sure that I can do it. It seems like a big responsibility."_

 _"Station and salvation both command a heavy price, boy."_

 _"W-what?"_

 _Caracalla sighed and thought about how to emphasize with his son. "You don't think you can handle it?"_

 _"I'm not sure, father." Chrom looked down. "I'm sorry."_

 _Caracalla looked down himself. "I know what you're going through, Chrom."_

 _"Father?"_

 _"Did you know I wasn't supposed to be Exalt? I was the third child born to your grandparents, Exalt Heraclius and Queen Alexian. The first born was supposed to be Exalt, and I lived a carefree life. I thought only of trivial desires. Food. Adventure. Women. Wealth. I never expected to inherit the throne, and I didn't think that I could be Exalt. I didn't want it."_

 _Chrom looked up in wonder. "But… I don't have any aunts or uncles."_

 _"No. Not anymore." Caracalla's stern face briefly broke as the memories came back to him. "I was twelve. My father had taken us on a trip to Plegia to negotiate with the Plegian King. We were returning from the negotiations and… and my siblings and I wanted to see the countryside. To go sightseeing. For fun. My father… he finally relented. The majority of the guards went with the minor nobles back to Ylisse. My family and just a handful of soldiers stayed, and we travelled the countryside for several days." Chrom's father knelt down and he looked to his son at almost eye level. "Plegian bandits attacked us. Overwhelmed our guards. My father was more than capable of defending himself, and my mother and I stayed close to him. I don't even remember what happened to my brothers and sisters as the attack began. I was scared. I just ran to my father and pressed my face to his leg." Caracalla gave a grim chuckle. "He had to kick me away several times to fight. Eventually my father made his way back to our carriage. My mother and I got in, and we sped off. My parents thought my siblings were inside, and I didn't even look. I just buried my face in my hands and cried. We were already some distance away before… before we realized they'd been left behind."_

 _"What… what happened, father?"_

 _"The bandits thought we were minor nobles, and they probably planned to ransom us back to Ylisse. When they realized who we were, the full severity of what they'd done, they panicked. A month later my father's men found my siblings. They'd been murdered, and their bodies had been left to rot in the sun."_

 _"No!"_

 _Caracalla gave his son a dour look. "From then on my mother and father controlled everything in my life. They were hard on me. They were strict and unforgiving, and they_ brutalized _me if I ever failed them. I grew to hate them. Part of me still hates them… but they were right. I needed to be strong enough to protect the people of Ylisse. I never thought I could do it son, but Ylisse needed me, and I answered that call. I know you think you aren't ready for this, but I know you can be strong enough. The people of Ylisse will come to you one day. They will beg you to help them, and you will answer their call."_

 _"I… think I understand, father." Chrom gave his father the most determined look he could. "I… I want it."_

 _"Do you? Is this your decision?"_

 _"Y-yes. Yes! I… I want it. Since she doesn't want it, I will take my sister's birthright."_

 _Caracalla let a grin envelop his face, but it was more sinister than anything. "It's not her birthright anymore." He sheathed the Falchion, but then knelt down again and ran his fingers through his son's hair. "You're too young to use it now, but in time you will train with it. I will be hard on you, boy. I will not allow weakness. You will need to be strong enough to protect Ylisse. I am doing everything I'm doing right now for you. You, Emmeryn, your younger sibling, I want you to grow up in a future without conflict. If I don't succeed though, then you will need to protect our people. You may face foes beyond anything you can imagine. The people of Ylisse will ask a lot of you, but you will answer their call." Caracalla took his son's hands. "But no matter how strict I am… know that I love you, and I'm doing all of this for you."_

 _"I… I love you too, father." Chrom had felt distanced from his father for most of the conversation, but now he saw his opportunity, and he finally got his hug. For a moment, a brief moment, Caracalla eased up and gave in to his primal emotions. He hugged his son back, taking care not to crush him with his armor. "D-don't ever leave us, daddy. Always come back!"_

 _"I'll… do my best, son."_

Chrom's mind snapped back to the present, and he looked up to see everyone staring at him. Based on the expressions they were giving him, he'd apparently been silent for awhile. He slowly rose to his feet, and to Ophelia's relief he took the Falchion from her. "Y-you're right, Ophelia. I-I need to be strong. For… all of you." Chrom rose the Falchion into the air, but then he started to squint at it. "Erm, Ophelia? This is the parallel Falchion. Mine is the other one."

"Huh? How can you tell?"

"Trust me. I know."

Ophelia shrugged and gave Chrom the other Falchion. Chrom smiled as the weapon was once again in his hand. For thousands of years his family had used the weapon, and that wasn't going to end under him. He nodded at his companions and glanced back down to the ballistician, but his calm was obliterated by the sight waiting for him. A tall, lanky man wearing a replica of his daughter's outfit stood staring at the weapon. Chrom was filled with rage at the sight of him, and he was already sprinting down the wall before the others realized what had angered him.

"The hell is the ballistician doing out here?" Keith said, scratching the back of his head. He slowly turned at the sound of someone coming up behind him. "Can this day get any… stranger?"

" ** _KEITH_**!"

Keith hesitated for an instant, but his pride ultimately gave way to his fear at the sight of Chrom charging towards him, and he bolted away from the ballistician. Chrom could just hear Ophelia calling after him, but he didn't care. He put everything he had into catching Keith. The two dashed through the fort with such speed that they avoided most of the fighting still raging throughout the settlement, and the few people who noticed them barely had time to yell before they were gone. Chrom's anger fueled him even as his legs screamed for him to stop, but he couldn't keep pace with a nineteen year old forever. Keith glanced back frequently, and he sprinted diagonally towards the center of the fort once he realized that Chrom was slowing down. Frustrated at the realization of being lead around in circles, and exhausted from his furious attempt to outrun Keith, Chrom desperately wanted to rest, but the thought of bringing an end to Keith's crimes kept him going. Chrom forced himself after the younger man, and he arrived at the fort's keep just in time to witness the gate closing, cutting the fort's center off from the rest of the settlement. Keith glared at Chrom through the gate, and Cervantes and Farber flanked him. Keith was stoic, but his officers leered at their old foe. Chrom threw himself at the gate, but the two men just laughed at him.

"You're too slow, boy. Just like you were too slow to keep Gangrel from introducing your elder sister to the ground all those years ago." Cervantes jeered. The comment pushed Chrom over the edge, and he pounded on the metal with his bare fist while roaring. Cervantes and Farber gave a mocking laugh, and Keith stepped forward.

"This will save us from the maelstrom outside, but you will be consumed."

"Blackhearted monster!"

Chrom slumped against the gate as Keith, Farber, and Cervantes retreated into the fort's citadel. The sounds of battle still echoed around him, but he just stood there, stuck in a mixture of rage and defeat, until Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori finally caught up to him. Ophelia grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Chrom please! I thought you were better! We need you, remember?"

Chrom slammed his fist on the gate again. The very thought of Keith was enough to make his blood boil now. Other than maybe Courtney or Gangrel, he wasn't sure he hated anyone more in his life. Chrom came to see that Walhart truly believed he was doing the right thing when fighting him. Chrom didn't agree with Walhart's methods, and he believed that he knew how to bring peace to the world. The battle with Walhart had been like a battle of ideologies, and Chrom even offered Walhart the chance to join him. When fighting against Validar, Chrom was more determined than anything. Validar was beyond reasoning, and Chrom just focused on the necessity of defeating him. He hadn't truly hated these foes, but he hated Gangrel, and now he hated Courtney and Keith. They had inflicted very personal pain on him, and they had threatened his family. Before he had allowed his rage to drive him, but now, as he looked into his grandniece's pleading eyes, he realized it was hurting their chances of escaping. Chrom took deep breaths and stepped away, trying to think of anything else besides Keith. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Hey cheer up." Soleil said as she stepped forward. "Gaius and Henry are bringing your cannon thing around. We could just blow open this gate. Would you like that? We could run him over. Snap him like a twig. Would you like that?"

"That… would make me feel better."

Meanwhile Keith scurried deeper into the citadel until he reached a small office. He quickly fumbled through his possessions, tossing items throughout the room. Cervantes stared uneasily at him, and even Farber was confused. "Erm, Justicar? I would never doubt your grasp on strategy and warfare, but that being said… what are you doing?"

Keith answered, but he didn't stop searching through his belongings. "They have the ballistician, Farber. Your weapon has been turned against us."

Cervantes was curious, and Farber's exaggerated reaction only heightened his interest. "What is that? Is that some kind of catapult?"

"It's far more than a catapult. It's an incredibly destructive weapon. I mean ancient times destructive. I mean the Hero King, who fought armies of dragons, would soil himself at the sight of this thing destructive. Alm and Celica themselves would roll over at the sight of this thing! That's the kind of destruction we're talking about here! This is a primeval kind of doom!" Farber responded, his usually serious tone cracking.

"Right." Keith said as he pulled out three cards. "They could blow the gate open with that kind of firepower, so we have to destroy it. Sorry, Farber."

"It's alright. I still have the blueprints. What… what are you doing?"

"These are the Einherjar cards Old Hubba gave us. Heroines of yore. We're going to need them." Keith threw the three cards to the ground, and two women materialized in front of him. The first had red eyes and very light red hair. She wore a white dress, elegant and regal, but also had a few pieces of armor on her legs and arms. Several tomes were by her side, and she also had a short sword. The second woman had yellow eyes and long white hair. She wore a dark red dress with black leggings and a blue cloth flowing behind her. Farber stood in awe. He was particularly amazed at the sight of the red haired woman, the first queen of the unified Valmese Empire Walhart had wanted to emulate. "Celica! Micaiah! What are you doing Justicar?!"

"I'm trying to get them to help us." Keith responded as he furiously shook the third card. "But the third one isn't coming out!"

"Try blowing on it." Cervantes chimed in. Keith blew on the card and angrily shook it.

"Come on you little… work!" Keith shook the card until the third woman materialized. She had light green hair and light green eyes. She also had red and yellow armor and a light yellow cape. Cervantes and Farber couldn't help but stare at the heroines of legend standing in front of them now, but Keith immediately moved in front of them. "Celica. Micaiah. Eirika. Champions of yore. I call upon your great and terrible power. There is a rebellion outside these walls that must be put down. At any cost. More than that, our enemies have a terrible weapon. It must be destroyed."

Eirika drew her sword, and Micaiah readied a tome. Celica held her sword in one hand, and materialized a ball of flame in her other hand. "It will be done." The three chanted.

* * *

Chrom, Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori carefully walked back to the fort's walls and waited patiently for Gaius and Henry to bring the ballistician over to them. Chrom couldn't help but be proud at the sight of Ophelia. He couldn't imagine actually being by her side fighting with her when she first asked him for help, but now she stood tall, the Falchion slung across her back. It was inspiring, but also confusing as Chrom noticed Gaius' arquebus at her back. "Is that an arquebus, Ophelia?"

"Oh, right. We got all our weapons and armor back from their armory, and I got Gaius' arquebus too." Ophelia took out the double barreled pistol from her hip and presented it to Chrom. "And I got your pistol. The Thundergrypp!"

"The Thundergrypp?"

"That's what we called it. Remember?"

Chrom chuckled. "Right. Thank you." Chrom took the pistol and checked it, but it wasn't loaded. He put it by his hip and looked over to see the ballistician lumbering over to him. He waved at it, and the hatch opened. Henry and Gaius climbed out, and Gaius smiled at the keep. "Alright. Let's put your little girl's psychotic fan in his place, shall we?"

"Keith's tyranny will come to an end today, but try and keep him alive. He could tell us where Tiki was taken."

Ophelia walked up to Gaius and presented his arquebus to him. Gaius seemed genuinely shocked for a second, and he took it very slowly. "We found your weapon erm, Gaius right?"

"Yes. T-thank you, Blondie." Gaius still worried that the girls hated him for what he did at Cordelia's homestead. Ophelia's cheeriness in getting his weapon for him stunned him, and he couldn't help but smile from ear to ear. "Thank you." Gaius inspected his weapon carefully. "So… did you get my other weapons?"

"Your… other weapons?"

"My two wheellock pistols? My hand mortar? My pistol sleeve? My goggles?"

"I… uh-" Ophelia nervously rubbed the back of her head. "I didn't know what was yours. I only remembered the Sunspitter."

"The what?"

"The Sunspitter! That's what we called your arquebus. Remember?"

"Yeah, uh… sure. That stuff was expensive!"

"Sorry."

Gaius took a deep breath. "It's alright. Thank you for giving me this but… did you at least bring bullets and gunpowder?"

"What?"

"Do you not know how a firearm works, Blondie?!"

"Don't you just point it and shoot it?"

"Not without ammo! I can't just throw it!"

Chrom couldn't help but chuckle. "You know, you wouldn't have to worry about ammunition if you used a sword."

"I'm not a young man anymore. I'm too old to be swinging a sword around."

"I do it and we're about the same age."

"Yeah, but you're some kind of machine!"

"I'll take that as a compliment." Ophelia looked at Gaius sheepishly and presented him with a short sword.

"Well I also have this."

Gaius groaned and took the sword. "I guess I'm going old school on this. Let's just get going."

Gaius climbed back into the ballistician, and Chrom followed after him. The two sat themselves back at their seats, and the weapon moved towards the citadel as the rest of the group carefully followed after it. Chrom loaded another shell into the main cannon. He was thinking about defeating Keith, about how things finally seemed to be going their way, when Gaius brought the ballistician to a stop. Chrom had a hard time seeing out of his small port hole, but he could see that three women were now standing in front of the gate. The bodies of several rebelling Arch Surg soldiers that had apparently tried to break through the gate were littered around them, and the women all had weapons ready. "The hell?" Gaius muttered as he brought his face to his window. "Hey! Get out of the way!"

Chrom opened the hatch and poked his head out to get a good look at the women. His heart sank as he realized who they were. "Gaius, these are the Einherjar Old Hubba gave to the Arch Surg. Micaiah, Eirika, and Celica. We fought them before. Remember?"

Gaius leaned back into his chair. "Oh this is not going to be fun. Still though, they can't get us in here right?"

In life, Celica had disliked fire after a traumatic event in her childhood, but Celica's Einherjar had no compunction about using it. She stepped in front of the other two women, raised her arm, and shot a jet of flame at the ballistician. The interior immediately heated up, and Chrom found that the weapon's armor did little to help. He frantically scurried out of the ballistician, and he looked on in horror as it was rapidly engulfed by flames. Gaius climbed out a few seconds later, but he was coughing and sputtering. He collapsed to his stomach after reaching the ground, and Chrom had to drag him to safety. Chrom was only by the ballistician for a few seconds, but the heat was already unbearable. He drew the Falchion as soon as Gaius was safe and readied himself as the three Einherjar advanced towards him. To his relief, Henry and girls made their way to him before the Einherjar attacked any further. "Woah!" Henry exclaimed, a smile on his face. "Look at that thing burn!"

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Sure. I know a curse for putting out a fire like this." Chrom stepped back as Henry walked over to the ballistician, seemingly ignoring the scorching heat. He waved his arm, but the flames didn't subside. They burned with an even greater intensity. "Huh. Whoops. That curse makes the flames burn more. Hold on. This should do it."

Before Henry could wave his arm again, the explosive shells within the ballistician were ignited by the increased heat. The deafening explosion consumed the entire machine, blowing Chrom and the girls backwards and sending wood and metal splintering in all directions. A piece of shrapnel struck Henry in the nose and almost tore it off. The sheer force of the blast sent him to his back, and he just held his nose as blood poured out of his hand. Chrom couldn't hear him, and for awhile he wasn't sure if Henry wasn't making noise or if the blast had made him deaf. It was a miracle that Chrom and Gaius were spared any shrapnel, but Chrom was blown to his back. The girls weren't so lucky, and shrapnel racked them. Soleil was hit in the shoulder by a fist sized piece of wood, and she collapsed to her knees. Caeldori's skirt was torn up at the bottom right side, and her bare thigh had much of its flesh rended off. Ophelia managed to cower somewhat, but shrapnel still tore at her abdomen and arms as she tried to cover her head. The three girls hadn't been seriously injured, but their wounds were incredibly painful, and they fell to their knees screaming. Chrom tried to get up and assist them, but he was painfully reminded of the Einherjar's presence as a fireball soared past him. He turned to see Celica sending a jet of flame at him, and blasts of light from Micaiah ricocheted around him. Chrom raised his Falchion and tried to deflect some of the attacks, but everything had happened so quickly. Part of him was horrified at what happened to Henry and the girls. Part of him was afraid. Part of him was still enraged at Keith, especially knowing that he had surely sent the Einherjar after them. Part of him was so overwhelmed by the ringing sensation in his ears that he couldn't think. Chrom tried to shut it out and focus on defending himself, but the Einherjar quickly overwhelmed him. Micaiah kept him suppressed with rapid attacks from her tome until Eirika could run up and cut him across the abdomen. It wasn't a serious injury, but Chrom was sent to his knees. He looked up to see Eirika readying a downward strike to his neck, but a blast of frigid air sent her backwards before she could finish him. Chrom turned to see Ophelia and Caeldori rising to their feet, but they were slow moving. Ophelia tried to unleash another blast at Micaiah, but she hit her directly with a blast of light magic. Ophelia staggered backwards, and Eirika brought her down with a strike to the head. Caeldori tried to rush to her defense, but Eirika mercilessly kicked her in her injured right leg and then cut her across the shoulder. Caeldori fell to her own knees, and Eirika's Einherjar seemed to consider finishing her, but then she turned her attention to Soleil, who still hadn't managed to rise to her feet. For seemingly no other reason than spite, Micaiah and Celica ran up to her, kicked her in the stomach, and then restrained her arms as Eirika walked over to her. The Einherjar took her time, twirling her sword around in a cocky manner while staring into Soleil's eyes. She struggled as much as she could, but Celica and Micaiah didn't let her go. They easily could have killed her themselves, but they seemed to want Eirika to kill her, execution style. Soleil struggled until the pain became too much, at which point she just smiled at the ground. "Well I guess there's worse ways to go."

But Chrom was enraged at the sight of it. Willing himself through his pain and fear, he charged at the three women. Almost like Tunnellers, the Einherjar seemed to prefer new targets to their old beaten ones. Eirika could've executed Soleil before Chrom could save her, but instead she just bashed her in the face with her sword hilt and turned to Chrom. Celica and Micaiah followed suit, sending a jet of flame and blasts of light respectively at him. Chrom rolled to his left to avoid the flame and used his Falchion to deflect Micaiah's attacks, but Eirika took the opportunity to charge at him. He barely managed to raise his sword in time to block it, and Micaiah ruthlessly blasted him in his exposed abdomen. Chrom shrieked in pain. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Sleep and let his tired muscles just give out. The rational parts of him tried to remind himself that this would be death, but he almost didn't care. He almost just gave up, and focusing on his rage and determination didn't help. What did snap him out of it was a brief glance at Soleil's bloodied face. Once more he was reminded that the girls would surely never leave the fort without him. It didn't matter how much pain he was in. He had been given a second chance with these three. He would not fail his friends again.

With a feral roar that would have disturbed everyone present if their hearing had still been intact, Chrom rose to his feet and narrowly avoided a downward slash from Eirika. As much as his legs wanted to just fall off, he managed a quick kick to Eirika's knee. The Einherjar's face twisted in misery, and he could hear the audible crack of bone snapping, but Eirika didn't scream. She barely made a noise. Chrom was momentarily terrified at the brutality of his own attack, but he focused on Eirika's silence. A real woman would scream, he told himself. These were not real women. Focusing on that, he grappled with the stunned Einherjar and eventually loosened her clothing enough to reveal a concealed knife. As a burning sensation rapidly enveloping his back reminded him of her presence, Chrom drew the knife and hurled it towards Micaiah. It struck the Einherjar in the eye, killing her instantly. Eirika seemed momentarily fazed by this, and Chrom proceeded to grapple with her further. He knew that Eirika's youth and skill would overwhelm him if he allowed her to recover, so he focused on driving her back with his greater strength and weight. He finally managed a vicious kick to her abdomen that sent her spinning backwards, but he reached out and grabbed her arm with his left hand. This caused her to jerk back and left her abdomen exposed, and Chrom took the Falchion in his right arm and drove it through the Einherjar. He threw all of his weight into the attack, and he didn't fight momentum as he began to fall into her. Instead he used it to drive the blade further into the Einherjar's body. The two fell to the ground, and Chrom rose to his feet and forced the blade up through her stomach and head, partially bisecting her. It was quite possibly the most brutal way he had ever killed anything. Having done that to a normal person would have been traumatizing, but Chrom glanced down and noticed that the Einherjar didn't seem to have any bodily fluids. Even as the corpse was almost split in half, not a drop of blood spilled from it. Chrom focused on these subtle signs of inhumanity, reminded himself that these weren't real women he was killing, and turned to face Celica. The Einherjar looked frustrated at her allies' defeat, but she was no less determined to fight herself.

The legends had always described Celica as a counterpart to Alm. Celica was compassionate and diplomatic. She had tempered Alm's wrath, and she worked to bring the continent into an age of peace. Chrom quickly began to realize that the legends had been made to make her seem more stereotypically feminine. If her Einherjar was anything to go by, Celica was an incredibly powerful warrior in her own right. Celica was very skilled with her blade. Chrom was stronger, his sword was longer, and he was more skilled than his opponent, but Celica was skilled enough to make it impossible for him to end the fight quickly. He occasionally managed glancing hits on her, but this is where Celica's skill in magic gave her the advantage. She simply healed any injury Chrom managed to inflict on her. Chrom was already exhausted, and he knew he had no chance of winning at this rate. If he couldn't find a way to bring her down quickly, the Einherjar would just continuously heal her injuries until he finally tired completely. Chrom put everything he had into a vicious offensive, but Celica broke it by firing some kind of spell into his face. The spell was a bright flash of light. It didn't hurt directly, but it functioned like a magical flashbang. The blinding light disoriented Chrom, and he could do nothing to stop Celica from driving her sword into his lower abdomen, and he fell to his back defeated. Once more Celica could have killed her opponent then and there, but she waited for Chrom to recover. She didn't prepare to move until she was sure that Chrom could see her clearly.

"You have attacked these people without provocation!" Celica's Einherjar stated in a seemingly normal voice. "Now open your arms, sir, and welcome justice's embrace!"

"You're… you're not Celica!" Chrom roared. The Einherjar barely reacted.

"Die, brigand!" Celica raised her sword, but the blade of a massive battleaxe bored through the Einherjar's head before she could kill her opponent. Chrom glanced up to see that Mustafa had saved him. He ripped his axe from the Einherjar and helped Chrom to his feet, but putting any weight on his injury was extremely painful.

"Gah! Put me down! Put me down!" Mustafa brought Chrom to rest near Gaius, who had largely recovered. Old Hubba helped Henry to his feet, and the three former Shepherds sat together. The three girls hobbled over to them, and Chrom realized that none of them had gotten out of the engagement unharmed. Furthermore, there was no chance of breaking into the fort's keep without the ballistician.

Henry took his hand away to reveal a gaping hole going through his nose. He stuck his finger through it, and Ophelia vomited at the sight. "Woah! That doesn't look good." He said with a disturbingly casual tone.

"Oh gods." Chrom groaned. He looked up to Mustafa, whose expression made the severity of everyone's injuries clear. "Thank you… for everything. We couldn't have made it without you."

"And you still may not make it, Prince Chrom." Mustafa pointed towards a building in the distance. Fighting could still be heard coming from the direction, but no Arch Surg forces could be seen around it. "There. That building. That's where they're keeping your wyvern, and your Pegasus. Use them to escape."

"But… Keith?"

"Surely you don't still think that you can beat him? You are all wounded. You need to ensure your escape, and then you must find medical assistance."

"But-"

Mustafa didn't give him any further chance to argue. He gingerly heaved Chrom up into his arms and carried his former enemy to the stables. Chrom could only give a shocked look at the sudden manhandling, but Mustafa didn't care. He was going to help Chrom leave Fort Morgan, whether he wanted it or not. Old Hubba was quick to help Soleil to her feet, and Gaius and Ophelia helped move Caeldori. Henry followed after them. He was still clutching his nose, but he didn't make much noise. It was like he didn't consider the injury to be that serious.

"Mustafa! Can't I walk?!" Chrom exclaimed. The hulking warrior ignored him.

"I know what you're thinking, Chrom. You want to stay and fight. You want revenge on Keith. You'd stay here if you could, but I'm not letting you. You have a real chance to help the world, but only if you leave this fort. I'm making sure you do."

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"Making up for past mistakes. I'm being on the right side for once."

Mustafa lead the group all the way to the stables, and he didn't set Chrom down until he was inside. He then quickly moved to block the entrance, in case Chrom still thought he could stay in the fort. Minerva and Aurora were happy to see the group, and the girls wasted no time in getting them ready. Chrom looked over the animals, and he looked back to Mustafa and Old Hubba. "Wait.. we don't have room for you two. You… you knew that. Why aren't you coming?"

"My place is here, Chrom." Mustafa answered. Old Hubba nodded.

"I'll stay with him. I'm not sure I could be of much help to you, and I should try and see if I can't get those Einherjar cards back."

"But this fort is still enveloped in chaos!"

"Ah, but that is why I must stay." Mustafa approached Chrom. "I know why this revolt happened. These soldiers are not afflicted with madness. They're just mad. A dark mage was controlling them. Forcing them to serve. The curse was recently lifted, and they're lashing out in frustration. I can't say I blame them. They are essentially escaping slavery."

"Who… who would do that?"

Mustafa had figured it out. Had he not been so close to him, Mustafa would have attacked Henry. He couldn't bring himself to fight a man he had considered a friend for so many years, but Mustafa did feel that Henry had crossed a line. Even now, he looked at him with sadness as he mounted Caeldori's Pegasus. "Why don't you ask your dark mage friend."

"Henry?" Chrom took a step back. "No!"

"It is true. He is responsible for this evil. I know he wants to grow closer to Ophelia. Maybe… maybe you should consider if that's such a good idea."

Chrom did feel betrayed, but he also knew that escape was the most important matter now. "But why stay with them? We've seen them kill indiscriminately, and they know you're an officer. They'll kill you!"

Mustafa just smiled and hoisted his axe on his back. "They are still people. They are angry yes, but they also need leadership and guidance. Maybe I'll fail, but I think I can help them. Maybe I can help right the injustices done to them."

Chrom didn't believe this was a good idea, but he knew Mustafa wasn't going to change his mind. The two men nodded, an understand between them. "Good luck."

"You too. Now go. You have a destiny that does not end with these walls."

* * *

Though Keith stayed secure in his citadel, confident that the walls of the keep couldn't be breached without the ballistician, Farber and Cervantes ventured out to rally scattered Arch Surg loyalists and to find Pheros. The rebels were largely outnumbered, but they were vicious and had attacked with such force that most Arch Surg positions had been overrun. The only reason why the eastern side of the fort hadn't been lost entirely was because Algol was holding part of it with his army of Risen. Farber and Cervantes generally weren't pleased by the constant reminder of Algol's past, but for once they were happy for his skills. Algol used his Risen to guard their rear as the group made their way along the fort's edge, and it was there that they found Pheros, still pinned under her horse. She was initially glad to see assistance coming for her, but the cold stares of her companions dampened her spirits somewhat.

"Well, well." Algol said in a mocking tone. "Found ourselves a fortified position did we?"

"Shut up, Algol."

"What're you doing under there, Pheros?" Cervantes said in a clearly feigned tone of innocence. "Horses do need food you know. Forget to feed it again?"

"Shut up!"

Farber shook his head. "Come on. The Justicar needs us to be ready. Get her out of there, Algol."

Algol directed a handful of Risen to Pheros, and they lifted her horse up enough for her to be pulled out. Pheros initially screamed, but she was finally able to use her healing staff on her legs. Her injuries subsided, and she slowly managed to rise back to her feet. "Oh gods! I didn't… I didn't know if I was getting out of that."

"What happened?" Farber asked. Algol and Cervantes both looked like they had more jeers, but Farber shot them a death glare and intimidated them into silence.

"Chrom happened. He stole some kind of mobile cannon!"

"The ballistician. We know."

"Where is he now?!"

"We're not sure, but he killed the Einherjar the Justicar sent to stop him. We think he may have left the fort already."

"I knew we should have killed their mounts!" Cervantes barked. Farber glared at him.

"Do not challenge the Justicar's decisions!"

Pheros tightened her grip on her healing staff, and her fairly soft features twisted with rage. "I hate that man! I know Archangel needs him alive, but we're too soft on him and his companions. We should break his legs and keep him in a box!"

"He deserves nothing less." Cervantes replied. Pheros looked at him for a few seconds, then turned to Farber and Algol.

"You know, that man has harmed all of us. We've all lost our dreams because of him! I say we make him pay."

"What do you mean?"

"Archangel still needs him captured, so we need to go get him. I say we go ourselves. No soldiers. No oversight. Just the four of us. We'll move faster as a small group. When we find him, we teach him a lesson. We make him pay for what he's done to us. We'll keep him alive…" Pheros gave a sadistic smile. "But we'll show him that the Justicar has been soft with him. We'll make him regret screwing us over. We'll make him regret ever picking up that sword."

Farber, Cervantes, and Algol looked to each other and returned Pheros' expression. Going after Chrom was something they'd have to do anyways, but now they saw the opportunity to have fun with it. "We're in." The three replied.


	26. The Inner Circle

Though most of the Ylissean continent was now covered in desert or badlands as a result of Grima's blight, there was a notable desert in Regna Ferox that had existed for millennia. This was Mamorthod, a desert that stretched for kilometers over Ferox. It was common knowledge that this was once the site of the ancient city state of Thabes. Thabes had been gone for centuries even back in the Hero King's time, and now it had been millennia since the city was inhabited. No records of the city had been available even centuries ago, and now the city was only known in legend. It was said that Thabes was a highly advanced civilization, and it possessed technology so beyond current understanding that some of it had yet to be rediscovered. For ages treasure hunters had attempted to find riches in the ruins, and everything that could be recovered easily had long since disappeared. By the time the First Exalt had created the Halidom of Ylisse, the desert was completely abandoned. A few brave and foolish treasure hunters would occasionally try to uncover treasures deeper in the ruins, but for the most part people left the area alone.

When the Fell Dragon took over the world, it ordered the Grimleal to reinhabit the area. Now the entire desert was under heavy lockdown, with the Grimleal 1st army dedicated to patrolling the sands and warding off intruders. Every major landmark in the area, from the Thabes Labyrinth to the Ruins of Time, now featured a Grimleal garrison. No one, not even Gangrel or Aversa, had any idea why, but Grima insisted on controlling these territories.

As strategically unimportant as most of the area was, there was one structure that had since been made practical. The Tower Of Thabes was an ancient edifice that rose from the dunes to the north of Marmorthod. There hadn't been anything there for millennia, but the Grimleal had since made it their headquarters in the region. Because the area was only inhabited on Grima's orders, and because the Fell Dragon refused to tell any of its followers why, the Grimleal had taken to calling it Camp Faith. In other words, you needed faith in Grima to think that being there wasn't a complete waste of time.

Inquisitor Thomas made her way through the tower's narrow and quiet halls as she prepared to deliver her report to Aversa. At first glance, Thomas looked like little more than a relatively well off peasant woman. At the sight of the bow slung across her back, one might think her a mercenary or hunter. No one would guess that she was an Inquisitor, but she was not only that. She was one of five members of Aversa's inner circle, making her one of the highest ranking Grimleal agents in the world. She looked nothing like anyone of comparable rank, mainly because she didn't wear robes typical of dark mages, and also because she didn't look like an evil stereotype. Thomas was of slightly below average height. Other than a bit of muscle in her arms from using her bow, she didn't look imposing in the slightest. She had curly, almost white blonde hair that flowed down to her shoulders. Her soft blue eyes accentuated her naturally warm and friendly features. She looked inviting and easily approachable, even while holding her face in a cocky expression. At her rank Thomas could have any clothing she wanted, but she chose simple trappings. Other than a bit of leather armor on her chest, she looked little different from a farmhand. Her clothes were notably masculine, and Thomas had a disdain for female fashion in general.

The Grimleal that ruled over the world now was like the Grimleal that had worked to resurrect Grima in name only. The previous Grimleal had been a cult. It revolved entirely around a single leader, and members all had a religious devotion to Grima. They fully believed in their cause, and most members had been born into the organization. A handful of members worked primarily for self gain, but most cared only about resurrecting their master. The modern Grimleal was a government more than anything else. Grima itself had ultimate authority, but day to day affairs were managed by Gangrel and Aversa. The two frequently bickered and quarreled, and they shared a unified vision only when the Fell Dragon forced them to. The members of the modern Grimleal were all outsiders that had joined, and their motivations varied wildly. Unlike the old Grimleal, a few members joined out of genuine devotion to the Fell Dragon, but the vast majority joined out of self gain. Many Grimleal agents saw the organization as a way to achieve wealth and power. They didn't particularly care about Grima's goals. They just wanted to be with the people in charge.

But there were also many other reasons why one would join the Grimleal. Some joined simply because the Grimleal was the government. Throughout human history, people have always felt a desire to be in the military or law enforcement. It's the job, not the flag, that they care about. They join the Grimleal simply because it's the authority, and they'd just as readily have joined the militaries of Ylisse, Plegia, and Ferox if they'd been born a few decades earlier. Others joined for the economic benefits. Some had little direction in life, and saw little else to do. Some believed it to be an adventure. Some just wanted to see what military service was like.

There was a recurring theme among the most devoted members of the modern Grimleal. For them, the organization had been a chance to escape the socioeconomic conditions they'd been born into. A defining aspect of feudalism is a lack of social and economic mobility. The classes that made up a feudal society were so defined that they were almost like castes. People did what their parents did. For generations people did what their parents did. It was hard to become anything else; to move beyond a role in society you were often given at birth. In such feudal systems, change often only comes through societal revolution, and in a way the Fell Dragon's rise was that revolution. The old kingdoms were destroyed. Old noble families ceased to matter in some cases, and old alliances were disbanded. The ancient regime and its aristocracy were swept away in favor of a new order, and this machine was fueled by new agents. Many were from lowly backgrounds, and Grima's rise gave them the chance to rise through merit. The new world order the Grimleal had since created had built a new feudal system all its own, and many still squandered in poverty, but there was still more social mobility now than ever. Joining the Grimleal was an opportunity to move up in life for many people, and such opportunities never existed before. In a twisted way, Grima's rise was one of the greatest things to ever happen to the lower classes.

Courtney and Altman were examples of this. The Grimleal gave them the opportunity to be more than peasants, and also provided them training with dark magic. Ascension and Sentzke escaped their primitive culture through the Grimleal. The Fell Dragon showed them a developed world they didn't even know existed, and both had become far more than they ever could while stuck in their tribe. Dartsmoth had been born to a persecuted tribe in his own continent. He and the rest of his people had been forced to live as nomads for crimes their ancestors had done decades before, but the Grimleal gave him a second chance. General Rouchfort was given the opportunity to serve in a real army again after Emmeryn and the Ylissean nobility exiled him decades prior, and so the career soldier served faithfully. Even Gangrel and Aversa were examples. Gangrel had little waiting for him after he left the Shepherds, and Aversa would be able to do little else but go back to the life Validar took her from. Now Gangrel was an Emperor, and Aversa had power and wealth beyond anything she would ever get otherwise. All of these people escaped societal persecution and or economic damnation through the Grimleal. Whereas many saw Grima as enslaving humanity, some could only see it as a liberator.

Thomas was an interesting case. She had been born into a life of wealth and prominence, but it was a gilded cage. Thomas' family was Ylissean nobility. Though their prestige faded after Grima's rise, their wealth didn't. Thomas' father increased the family fortune through deals with the Grimleal early in its rise, and he had hopes of making his house prominent in the new world. His greatest wish was for a son to carry on the family's legacy, but Naga gave him eight daughters over five wives instead. Born six years after Grima's rise, Thomas received her masculine name out of sheer spite, and three of her other sisters got this same treatment.

Thomas's father was deeply conservative, and he expected nothing else than for his daughters to marry and increase the family's wealth and connections. Thomas wanted much more for herself, but her father punished her severely for any behavior not one dimensionally feminine. She eventually attempted to survive on her own through a life of crime in her desperation for freedom, but her father decided he'd rather silence her then let the house's reputation be damaged. Thomas was hunted by her own family until, out of options, she turned herself into the Grimleal. Aversa's agents had heard of her story, and they gave her the chance to prove herself. But a few years later, Aversa personally selected her to be one of her most trusted inquisitors, and now Thomas answered only to superiors that trusted her to work independently. She owed her freedom to the Grimleal, and now she'd willingly dedicate her life to it.

The noblewoman turned inquisitor finally made her way through Camp Faith's halls and arrived in the tower's primary command center. This was a large, open room at the very top of the tower, but still inside the building. The room was surrounded by windows on all sides, and their was very little of interest in it. The one installation the room did house dominated everything in the space, and it was easily the most important asset in Camp Faith. This was the Faraskjótr. Like High Point, it was built with assistance from the Fell Dragon itself, and it was far more advanced than anything humanity could ever make on its own.

The Faraskjótr was essentially a giant warp stave; a teleportation system capable of moving people across vast distances. The magic to do this had been known to human civilization for millenia. What set this installation apart was its exponentially increased size and power. The Faraskjótr could be called on to teleport anyone in the continent. Upon activation, a pulse of dark magic is hurtled from Camp Faith towards the position of whoever called for it. The energy travels significantly faster than the speed of sound, and it can reach even the most remote areas of the Ylissean continent within minutes. The Faraskjótr's range isn't infinite. The entirety of the Ylissean continent and parts of the Valmese continent could be reached, but it couldn't teleport from anywhere else. For example, the personnel of High Point couldn't be teleported if the city was hovering over another part of the planet entirely. Like a warp stave however, the Faraskjótr's range was greater when teleporting people to their destinations. In this context, the installation's range was theoretically infinite. People could be sent anywhere in the world at a moment's notice, though this could be a one way trip if the distance was too great. Unlike a normal warp stave, the Faraskjótr could also teleport multiple people. As many as fifty could be moved at once.

The Faraskjótr had its limitations. The system consumed massive amounts of energy whenever used. Teleporting a single person put it on cooldown for thirty minutes, and teleporting fifty people rendered it inoperable for three hours. To prevent strain on the system and to ensure high priority individuals could always count on the teleporter being available, only very high ranking members of the Grimleal could request use of the Faraskjótr. Even then there was often a queue. Lastly, teleporting more than twenty people required advance notice. The Faraskjótr thus could not replace conventional travel for the majority of Grimleal personnel, but it still provided certain agents the ability to be anywhere they were needed, provided that they started relatively near the Faraskjótr, rather than in another part of the world.

Maintaining and operating the Faraskjótr, as well as handling the requests for its use, was a challenging prospect. The man responsible for this arduous task was Inquisitor Al-Amin, one of Aversa's inner circle. Though other high ranking inquisitors, such as Altman or Thomas, were frequently called on different missions, Al-Amin's sole responsibility was to operate the Faraskjótr. The Grimleal 1st army soldiers stationed there even answered to their own officer. Al-Amin's _only_ job was to maintain the installation. He didn't command. He didn't move. He just stood in front of the Faraskjótr all day and waited for someone to request its use. Thomas thought it had to be a mind-numbing job, and Aversa couldn't have found someone better than Al-Amin.

Al-Amin stood in stark contrast to Thomas. He looked like a stereotypical dark mage, clad in heavy black robes and concealing most of his face in a hood. Whereas she was young and lively, Al-Amin was seventy three years old and incredibly sluggish in his movements. While Thomas often carried a cocky tone and expression, Al-Amin was quiet and reserved. His expression rarely ever deviated from a cold, intense stare. Thomas loved to hear herself talk, but Al-Amin only ever said what he had to. Thomas noted his familiar but entirely unwelcoming stare as she walked into his office. Though she'd seen it dozens of times, her eyes were invariably drawn to the Faraskjótr itself. She just couldn't get used to it.

The Faraskjótr took the form of a floating ball of dark magic. It was suspended about a meter off the ground, and it was three and a half meters tall. The energy was a dark, almost sickly black and purple color, and swirls and asymmetric patterns could be made out on the tumultuous surface of the sphere. Blasts of dark magic in the form of black and purple lightning bolts occasionally arced out of the Faraskjótr. Getting struck by one of these wasn't exceptionally painful, but it wasn't pleasant either. Thomas remembered that Al-Amin stood as close as he could to the Faraskjótr without being struck, so Thomas kept this same distance herself. At this range she was safe, though her long hair still stood up at end. Al-Amin's emotionless stare followed Thomas across the room. She nodded to him when she finally reached him, but he didn't react. "Al-Amin! Buddy! How's it going?"

"Inquisitor Thomas." He responded in a blank tone. "You want something."

Thomas noted that this wasn't phrased as a question. Al-Amin often figured out what people wanted before they could even say anything, though this couldn't be difficult. There weren't many reasons why anyone would visit him. "Come on, darling. Can't I just want to see an old friend?"

"No."

"Well… okay I do need your help. We need to report to the High Inquisitor soon, and you know that I'm still learning to use dark magic. Can I piggyback off your transmission?"

"Your tome. Inoperable?"

"My transmission is finicky. Can I just use yours?" Thomas grinned. "We'll be dark magic buddies. It'll be fun."

"Unlikely."

But without saying another word, Al-Amin did take out his own tome. The farakveða tome was one of many dark magic tomes created after the Fell Dragon's rise. It allowed real time communication with anyone who also had their own tome, regardless of distance. The Grimleal used this tome frequently for their communications, and Aversa required that all her inquisitors have one. The few inquisitors who couldn't use dark magic had to have others operate the tome, and Thomas was still learning. Thomas and Al-Amin stood in awkward silence for a few minutes until the elder inquisitor's tome began to glow, indicating that he was being hailed. He fired a blast of magical energy into the air. The blast paused in flight and suspended itself in the room. From the magical energy materialized a humanoid figure. Slowly but surely the image became more and more clear, until finally a flickering but otherwise detailed image of High Inquisitor Aversa appeared. Several more holographic images appeared a few seconds later, depicting Altman, Dartsmoth, and Ascension respectively. Ascension was completely incapable of magic, so she was piggybacking off of Aversa's transmission. Aversa's image looked around and smiled, happy to see the five members of her inner circle together again. "Alright, my lovelies, let's get to work. Dartsmoth, put out your cigarette."

Dartsmoth's people literally smoked a strange plant they called tobacco. It was apparently an addictive habit, and Dartsmoth wasn't entirely in control of it. He couldn't go more than a few hours without smoking. He also became irritable if denied a cigarette, though he wasn't always pleasant regardless. "Loptyr's bloody piss, Sheila! I'm nowhere near you!"

"Just do it, love. For me?"

"Ratshit Plegians." Dartsmoth's hologram put out his cigarette with his boot. Thomas sneered at him.

"What can you expect from an unmutual."

Dartsmoth's face twisted with rage. Thomas didn't actually know what that word meant in this context. She just knew that Dartsmoth used to be one on his continent, and he was infuriated at the mention of it. Thomas loved teasing him, especially since Dartsmoth didn't seem capable of taking it well. "Shut your whore mouth! If you had any idea of what that word meant to my people. Any idea!"

"I'd probably use it even more." Thomas interjected. Dartsmoth turned to Aversa.

"You going to let her talk to me like that?!"

"You know my policy, love. My dearies are responsible for defending their own egos."

Dartsmoth turned to Thomas and removed his sunglasses, something he almost never did. His hologram flickered and warped, and his eyes seemed to shine brightly. The inquisitors thought nothing of it, but Aversa knew what this meant. She was one of the few people that knew Dartsmoth wasn't entirely human anymore, and he hid one of the few traces of this behind his sunglasses. "One of these days, Thomas, you won't be a hologram to me. One of these days your pudgy, girlish bloody face will be next to mine, and your father will be scraping what's left of you from a can!"

"Ooh. I'm shaking in my boots over here."

One of the few pieces of furniture in the room suddenly fell over. Dartsmoth had apparently tried some kind of spell on Thomas, but Camp Faith had a ward that protected it from magic. It was a testament to Dartsmoth's power that he had managed to affect the building in any way. Aversa looked over to him and figured out what he was doing. "Dartsmoth! Need I remind you the penalties for treason?!"

"Yeah, yeah." Dartsmoth took a deep breath and put his sunglasses back on. "Let's just get on with it."

Aversa turned to look at everyone. "Alright. I want full reports on everyone's progress. Thomas, since you do so enjoy your own voice, why don't you start?"

"Gladly. I've got the most pressing news anyways." Thomas straightened her posture. "I just got an interesting report from my MAC-SOGs in southern Ferox. A group of independent mercenaries are claiming that they've captured a high value target. They want to hand her over to us, so long as we pay the bounty."

"And who might this high priority target be?"

Thomas smiled, eager to earn Aversa's praise. "Alpha Priority Target AZ-001."

Aversa rolled her eyes. "Come now, love. I don't have all the codenames memorized. Who is that?"

"She is referring to Tiki." Altman answered. "The voice of Naga."

"Number one on Grima's shitlist." Thomas added. "Even old Chrom boy pales in comparison to the daughter of Naga."

Aversa didn't react much. She seemed to consider Thomas' words. "How could a group of mercenaries possibly capture Tiki?! She's been avoiding us for thirty years. Is this information trustworthy?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous. I honestly don't expect anything to come from it, but it's worth further investigation. Who knows. Maybe we'll get lucky. She couldn't hide forever, and surely our bounty has inspired people to go looking for her."

"How could a divine dragon possibly be defeated by mercs?" Dartsmoth asked in a skeptical tone.

"Maybe they caught her napping."

"Maybe your men are idiotic."

"My SOGs wouldn't make this up. I'm not saying the mercenaries definitely have her. I'm just telling you what they're saying, and that I'll go investigate."

"Remind me of your 'SOGs' again?" Aversa asked.

"Military Assistance Command - Studies and Observations Group. Men and women I've picked from all over the world for the purposes of unconventional warfare. They're highly experienced, and they do what Gangrel's forces can't, and what us inquisitors just don't want to do."

Dartsmoth turned to Aversa. "That's a fancy way of saying she paid a few mercs to work for us and do her work for her. Doesn't mean they're trustworthy."

Thomas just smiled. "Shh, sweetie. Adults are talking."

Aversa wasn't sure of Thomas' claims, but she did smile at her retort. Thomas was easily her favorite in terms of disposition. She saw a bit of herself in Thomas, as she seemed to share her enjoyment of teasing and jeering. Dartsmoth didn't seem to have the wit for it, and Ascension, Altman, and Al-Amin couldn't be bothered. "So you don't know if this claim is real?"

"No, High Inquisitor. It's worth looking into though."

Altman nodded. "If we did capture her, we'd be able to make significant progress on Project: Xenologue. It's not enough to know how to open Outrealm gates. We'd need a significant amount of power to actually open them. If Naga could open Outrealm gates, then Tiki's power could surely do it. We could use her as a battery, once _the machine_ is ready of course."

"When will this machine be ready?" Aversa asked.

"Unknown. You would have to ask the Anointed Ones, or perhaps the Fell Dragon itself."

"Hmm, I think I'll pass. I don't want to talk to Grima more than I have to. How goes Project: Xenologue by the way?"

"Progress is steady, but no breakthroughs will be made until I have Severa."

"Oh yeah. Little miss not good enough for mother. I remember her. Why do you need her again?"

"I studied the bodies of the Shepherds that passed through Outrealm gates until no more data could be acquired. I need a living person to continue my experiments. I want to study the effects Outrealm radiation has had on her body. This will hopefully allow me to better understand the magic Naga used to open them. It is of note that Cynthia and Nah's bodies were also unaccounted for, but I have no leads on where they could be. Cynthia disappeared into history, and our method of tracking Divine Dragons doesn't work on Nah. Her bloodline is too impure. I do have a lead on Severa, however. Her daughter Caeldori. I just need Dartsmoth to find her for me."

"Working on it, mate."

"Why can't Dartsmoth go after Severa, Cynthia, or Nah directly?" Aversa replied. Dartsmoth shrugged.

"Come now, boss woman. Even I need leads."

"Well what makes you think Severa is alive?"

Altman nodded, ready to answer this particular question. "If there was one thing the Shepherds were good at, it was survival. Kryczek once predicted that any surviving Shepherd had at least a seventy five percent chance of avoiding death by unnatural causes over the following several decades. This formula didn't apply to Nowi, of course, given our ability to track Divine Dragons. Her survival rate was only nine percent."

"So you're saying we didn't get lucky in bringing her down?"

"Yes. I doubt we'll get lucky in finding any of the others by chance, and I wish to increase our odds. These same odds tell me that Severa is likely still alive. Based on variables including but not limited to her age, class, skill, behavioural patterns, and bloodline, Kryczek once predicted an eighty three point three seven five percent chance of her continued survival for at least forty five years. It is possible that she is dead, and no breakthroughs can be achieved if she is dead, but I'm not going to assume that."

"Ever the scientist, Altman."

"I try. Kryczek once told me that science and magic cannot coexist, but I disagree. Magic is just a tool, and anything can be studied. Objectivity can be applied to our entire world."

"Continue your work, Altman. Dartsmoth, any progress on finding Chrom and Ophelia?"

"And remember that I need Caeldori alive." Dartsmoth interrupted.

"And further remember that I would like Chrom alive. Grima wants him dead, but I want to see him again first."

"I'm working, I'm working! I'm almost finished gathering intel. Once I'm done, I'll just call up Al-Amin and do the Grimleal glide over to their location."

Aversa wasn't sure why Dartsmoth thought he could figure out their location just by learning about them, but he was her best tracker. She didn't understand his thought processes, but she didn't doubt him either. "Good work, Dartsmoth. Al-Amin? How are things in Camp Faith?"

"The Faraskjótr? Operating normally."

"Anything you want to add?"

"No."

"Alright. Well Ascension here already knows her mission. She'll take her forces and personally enforce Black Authority on Gangrel's most significant assets. Within a month or two, we'll have taken everything from him. Everything worth taking anyways. If you bring Chrom to me alive, Dartsmoth, I can wait to kill him. We get to keep everything we take from Gangrel after Black Authority is lifted, so it is in our best interest to take as long as we can to kill Chrom. Grima isn't the most patient being, of course, so having him with me insures that we can kill him before the Fell Dragon gets too upset. I'd also very much like to have a little conversation with him. It's been so long since we've seen each other."

"Got it." Dartsmoth said.

"I don't need Ophelia though. Kill her. Anyone else with them too."

"Sure thing."

"Excellent work all of you. This meeting is adjourned."

Al-Amin ended his transmission. He turned to Thomas, finding that she was still looking at him. "You want something else."

"One last thing, baby. I need to do the Grimleal glide myself. Take me to my personal headquarters in southern Ferox so I can investigate the mercenaries."

Al-Amin didn't say anything more. He didn't even nod. He just turned to the Faraskjótr and fired a blast of dark magic from his hands. The Faraskjótr glowed brightly. If Thomas was outside the building, it would have fired a pulse of energy through the windows to her position. Since she was so close, the Faraskjótr just continued to glow until the light became blinding. When it finally subsided and returned to normal, Thomas was nowhere to be seen.

Aversa ended her transmission and turned to Ascension, who had been standing beside her. Ascension dwarfed Aversa, and almost no one she knew came close to her height. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of her much favored inquisitor. Having muscular servants was a classic sign of power and influence after all. "Well, Ascension, get to work."

"Yes, High Inquisitor. My mission of glorious conversion and intercession will begin at once."

"Right… so long as that 'glorious' mission includes using Black Authority to absorb Gangrel's assets. You know, what I actually told you to do?"

"Of course, High Inquisitor. That is what I meant. I will see to my forces at once."

Aversa watched as Ascension left, and her smile faded somewhat as she turned to find her son Thallius walking towards her. Thallius' expression made his own desire to be anywhere else clear, whereas Aversa at least feigned a smile. "Well if it isn't my beloved son. I see you're finally reporting to me."

"Whatever, mother."

Aversa could already feel a vein in her head throb, and she struggled to maintain even a false look of positivity. "Just… just wait for your mother in your new quarters. I'll give you a task later."

"Sure. Just let me consult my magical map that informs me of where that is. Oh what? There's no such thing? Someone has to tell me where to go? I had no idea. I mean my mother didn't tell me where that was, and she would never forget a crucial detail like that."

For much of her life, Aversa had always had a retort or remark ready, but her son's blunt approach to sarcasm had disarmed her over the years. There was just no easy way to deflect such a simplistic approach to snark. Instead she would always run her hand down her face and force an even wider smile until her frustration subsided, and then she'd try to avoid talking to her son any further as much as possible. She turned to a nearby soldier. "Why don't you show my oh so exhausted son to his arrangements?"

"Yes, High Inquisitor."

The soldier departed with Thallius in tow, and Aversa turned to see her two elder children approaching. Her oldest child, Servillia, was a few years older than Thallius. She wore simple white robes, and she had inherited her father's jet black hair. Her sister Fulvia was a year younger, and her black robes were contrasted heavily by her stark white hair, the same hair color her brother and mother had. Both women nodded courteously at their mother. "High Inquisitor." They chanted at the same time.

"Girls. Did you enjoy the trip?"

"It was quiet, mother." Fulvia responded. "I enjoyed it."

"Good. I haven't any need for you at the moment, so feel free to inspect your accommodations. Follow your brother, and do make sure he doesn't upset anyone important."

"Yes, mother." Servillia replied.

Meanwhile, Ascension paced around the harbor _Matriarch's Vindication_ had sailed into. The small port was a purely military installation located just a few kilometers from Ylisstol. Ascension's forces included a small flotilla of ships she kept here, and Aversa had stopped at the port to allow Ascension to retrieve them. She was also tired of her galleon and wanted to enter Ylisstol on foot. Ascension herself had grown tired of sailing, and she was happy to enjoy being on land again. She quite content with herself until she heard the murmurings of Captain Cassia behind her.

"Gods! Finally! What a long voyage. I can't believe Grima couldn't just move High Point here. We had to sail to the middle of nowhere to pick the High Inquisitor up, and then we had to sail all the way here just because Grima couldn't be bothered to fly Aversa over here. Just… just damn! I love my ship, but I don't want to be on it for that long."

Ascension was briefly enveloped with fury, such that she snarled to herself. She knew she couldn't do anything to Captain Cassia, but most people who criticized Grima in any way in her presence quickly regretted it.

The sailor Cassia had been talking to noticed Ascension, but initially paid her little mind. "Tell me about it."

"And it was unbearable having that savage on my bridge. Remember how she killed one of her own soldiers? Why did Aversa ever take her from her wretched continent? Damn spear chucker. I wish she'd stay away from me."

Ascension's pride forced her to respond. She slowly walked over to Cassia. The man she was talking to saw her and backed away, but Cassia was unaware until she was right behind her. She turned to see Ascension's abdomen, and she had to step back to look up to her eyes. Ascension's face barely hid an expression of rage, but she was outwardly calm. Cassia quickly glanced around and saw that both Aversa and her marines weren't in earshot. She held her ground, but her body language was far more subdued than it had been the last time she talked to Ascension. "I'm a savage, am I? Tell me, Cassia, what makes this so? Why are my people primitives, and yours civilized?"

Cassia stood up tall, though her voice was shaky. "We are strong, Ascension. Our cultures are developed and sophisticated, and our technology is beyond yours. That is why Ylisse and Valm are the most important continents in the world. That is why we are at the Fell Dragon's right side."

"One day that will change, Valm born. One day my people will be the chosen torchbearers of civilization's light."

* * *

Ascension's soldiers stood in abject misery. The roughly seventy men and women under her command that had followed her aboard the _Matriarch's Vindication_ were now gathered in a feasting hall, and they were all desperately tired and hungry. For months they had been crammed into a ship. Large as it was, being stuck on the galleon for that long had been maddening. There was little to eat on a sailing ship besides hardtacks and heavily salted meat that still managed to be covered in maggots, and fresh fruits and produce were completely unavailable. The only way to eat anything else was to catch a fish, and that didn't keep very long. No one starved on the _Matriarch's Vindication_ , but no one ate well either. For months Ascenion's troops had dreamed of a real meal, and now one was staring them in the face. Taunting them.

Laid out in front of the soldiers was a massive table. Two roasted pigs, carved in such a way that helpings could readily be taken, formed the center of a decadent feast. Cooked sides, fruits, and vegetables all surrounded the pigs, and dipping sauces of all kinds completed the setup. The food was just waiting to be consumed, and the smell wafting through the room was something out of a seaman's dreams, but no one was eating yet. Ascension had a policy on large feasts. No one could eat until the food was properly blessed. As much as every soldier in the room was completely dominated by a primal desire for a stomach full of decent food at that moment, none of them moved. Ascension was very strict on her religious policies. Any soldier that went for the food would be punished severely, and everyone was aware of what had happened to the young woman that denied the Fell Dragon's very existence in front of Ascension. Though hunger was one of humanity's basest desires, it did not overcome the fear of being brutally killed. Ascension knew what her soldiers wanted, and she reveled in their quiet suffering. She was asking her soldiers to put aside their instinctive wants in the name of a greater, abstract concept. In her mind it was a test of faith. Any soldier that lacked the devotion to refrain from their base desires in the name of piety was a heretic in her eyes, and Ascension hated nothing more. Her soldiers would eat only after the food was properly blessed, and Deacon Sentzke would be delivering this blessing. Sentzke himself had mixed feelings on this. He didn't mind saying grace, but making his comrades wait to eat didn't endear him to them.

"And we thank Grima for this food we are about to have. We never forget that it is by the Fell Dragon's grace that we can enjoy such bounty, and our complete and total devotion is but a small price to pay for such patronage. Of course, food is the least of the benefits our worship bestows to us. We seek a far greater achievement. That of everlasting clarity and omniscience. The Fell Dragon is the key to our unworlding, and in time we shall cast aside the shackles of mortality and follow our lord into a continuance beyond our current imagining." Sentzke had been going on and on for about fifteen minutes now. He paused to make sure everyone was listening to him before continuing, as he was nearing Ascenion's favorite part. "I have heard the words whispered among you. Murmurings of fear and discontent. I promise you that there is no need to panic. Though the world is consumed by chaos, and though we are surrounded by rebels and infidels and insurrectionists, this is not a time to panic. No, no this is a time to rejoice. We are so close to our goals of enlightenment and salvation. Through our faith, our path is clear, and our entry into a great beyond is guaranteed. Nothing, _nothing_ , can stop us so long as we walk a blessed path. Look amongst yourselves now. We all come from different backgrounds. We live in a flawed world, a world defined by injustices. Talent, wealth, opportunity, these are not equally distributed. Salvation is, however. That is the legacy of the Grimleal. We have spread the opportunity for salvation to all the people of the world, and in doing so we unite our disparate and violent race in the pursuit of a better future. We are all different, unique, and we all live our own lives, but the blessed path is broad and we shall all walk it side by side. Such truth is reflected in nature itself. Different as all humans are, we can all enjoy the same food, and the feast laid before us now is an example of this. I bless this food as Deacon, so that we can cast aside the weaknesses of our mortal coils and enjoy the freedom of rational thought. Thoughts free from the tyranny of scarcity, so that our fervor not be subverted by hunger."

Sentzke had finally finished his part of the blessing, or rather he had finished the part done entirely by him. It was still not time to eat yet, as Ascension had a part of her own. She slowly walked across the room, intentionally strolling past the food so that her troops would have to look at it, and made her way to a large banner hanging on the wall. The banner depicted the Mark of Grima. "Soldiers! The human condition can be divided into six periods. What is the first period?"

"Ignorance and strife!" All of her soldiers chanted.

Ascension would ask her soldiers, and they would answer. It was still Sentzke's job to explain the meaning of the words however. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his grumbling stomach. "In the beginning, we were as beasts. We lived as hunter gatherers, and we had not yet been graced with civilization's light. We cared only for primal desires, but in time our minds found a higher calling. That of theological devotion."

"What is the second period?" Ascension asked.

"Desertion and desecration!" Her soldiers answered.

"Humans eventually built the beginnings of our modern society. We abandoned the lifestyle nature intended for us, and in doing so we became a burden on the natural order or things. All other living things live within their means, but humans do not. We have proliferated in numbers, and we consume more resources than the land can provide on its own. We take from our environment, and rarely do we give back. We have forsaken nature in favor of civilization, and in doing so we have doomed ourselves to eventual ruination. The only way to preserve our race is through salvation. The end of want and scarcity."

"What is the third period?"

"Countenance and edification!"

"For most of our history the dragons looked down on us. They considered us to be primitives. We were inferior to them. However, the Divine Dragon King Naga decided to bless us with his support. Through him, human civilization advanced and prospered. Many dragons fought against Naga, but in the end they were defeated. Though the dragons that helped to develop our civilization have since fallen to degeneration, our species lives on. Naga chose us to be the successors to the dragons, and our kind was shown light and truth. Because of them, humanity now holds the knowledge to ancient power. However, the dragons deserve not our devoted adherence. Their civilization was destroyed. In their arrogance, the dragons did not wish to evolve beyond their mortal coils, and so they fell to degeneration. The only way to escape our inherently doomed existence is through salvation, and we must never lose sight of this. We must not allow mortal pleasures and base desires to distract us from the blessed path."

"What is the fourth period?"

"Faith and turmoil!"

"Many challenges had to be overcome as our species came to dominate the world. Humans waged petty wars with each other. Our increased knowledge brought much increased sorrow. This world that once served as our cradle became as a wretched prison. Nothing could save us from a dark and meaningless existence. Nothing save for our faith. Blessed light beckons us onwards to a future beyond our frail forms. We were called to trade short term gain for long term glory. Instinctive needs for abstract ideas. The path is wrathful, but walk it we must. It is a test for the faithful. The yoke is heavy and red with rust. The journey is long, but its glory is available to all the throng."

"What is the fifth period?"

"Primacy and intercession!"

"In time our race came to rule the world in its entirety, and in time our quest for religious fulfillment was rewarded. Grima the Fell Dragon delivered its glory to us. Though the First Exalt slew Grima when it initially appeared, we were eventually blessed with a second chance. All we had to do was spread Grima's glory to all the world. In exchange, we have been granted the opportunity for something greater than anything we could achieve on our own. The Fell Dragon asks only that we serve. That we genuflect ourselves before it. That we help to convert the ignorant and sweep away the blasphemers. In doing so, we are granted a chance for ascension to something greater. The dragons in their arrogance chose to stay in this mortal world, but we will not make that mistake. We will achieve a harmony beyond what nature intended for us. We will evolve past our bestial and animalistic beginnings. We will be saved from a life defined by suffering."

"What is the sixth period?"

"Enlightenment and salvation!"

"Through Grima we will overcome the chaos of life! Without chaos there can be no new living things. We owe our existence to it, but we must work to allow harmony to prevail. Only when we cast aside our desires can we achieve harmony. Only when we devote ourselves entirely to something greater than any individual can we achieve harmony. Only when we walk a blessed path can we achieve harmony. Worship of the Fell Dragon is the path to this, and through its glory we shall ascend! We will join it in glorious and eternal salvation! We will leave cruelty and savagery behind, and we will have permanent and infinite understanding! Where the dragons degenerated, we will be free of mortal strife! No more want! No more scarcity! We will have a continuance greater than anything nature could provide. This is enlightenment!"

Ascension pointed at the banner. "Six periods for six eyes of Grima! Know that the periods are not carved in stone, but are malleable. Humanity can regress. Should our civilization collapse, for example, we would go back to the first period. We stand now in the fifth period. Enlightenment and salvation are at hand, but only through the Fell Dragon. One day my brothers and sisters, one day, we will achieve this. One day we will be free of our mortal coils. One day we will be rewarded for our faith, for walking the blessed path, but for now we are limited by physical weakness. For now we must continue to convert the ignorant, silence heresy, and serve the High Inquisitor. For now… we shall eat."

As leader of the group, Ascension was entitled to the first helping of food. As Deacon, and as a further sign of his holiness and humility, Sentzke was entitled only to the very last helping. He had to stand and watch for over twenty minutes as every other soldier helped themselves to a plate of food before he could go. He moved as fast as his pudgy body would let him as soon as he could finally eat, and he quickly made a plate that featured everything the feast had to offer. Sentzke could barely contain his excitement as he rushed to a table, but his glee was taken from him as a blunt object struck him in the back of the head, causing him to drop his plate on the ground. For a few seconds, Sentzke could no nothing but stare in dejected sorrow at his ruined meal as it spread across the floor, and he looked down to see red juice staining his bright white stole. A half eaten slice of watermelon had been thrown at him, and the perpetrators of this were still pointing and laughing at him.

"An offering for his holiness!" One of Ascension's soldiers sneered. The young man was surrounded by two other teenage male companions.

"Ha! Nice hustle there tons-of-fun!" Another of the soldiers yelled. "Next time try skipping out on dessert."

The third boy stepped forward. "Hey! The mess hall was hollering at us earlier. They said they're running out of desserts! Would you have anything to do with that?"

Sentzke finally forced himself to turn around. "Oh yeah?! Well… well… the jerk store called! They're running out of you!"

"What's it matter, fatass? You're their all time best seller!"

Sentzke fumed in silence. He knew things wouldn't get better for him, but his pride forced him to try and think of another comeback. The three boys stood waiting for a chance to mock him further until a hulking figure made its way behind them, and they looked up to see Ascension glaring down at them. The three hung their heads and quickly left, but Ascension did nothing to punish them. She had a policy similar to Aversa, except that it was more severe. Her soldiers were responsible for dealing with their own problems. In her eyes, you were only bullied if you weren't standing up for yourself. Ascension was fond of Sentzke, and she occasionally helped him, but she never did anything to actually dissuade people from tormenting him.

"T-thanks… I guess."

"Of course."

Sentzke looked up at his distant cousin. Sentzke had known Ascension since he was a teenager and she was a girl, and they both shared a great-great-grandparent, but the two were never close until they both joined the Grimleal. Sentzke went with Ascension's plan to turn on her own people out of genuine theological devotion, but he wasn't sure how he felt about the violent lifestyle she had since dragged him into. Sentzke was more afraid of Ascension than anything, but he knew she had some affection for him. Much as she valued strength, and as much as Sentzke's cowardice and physical inability frustrated her, Ascension admired Sentzke's faith and education. "Hey, Ascension?" Sentzke asked meekly.

"Have you need of assistance, Deacon?"

"Well uh…" Sentzke looked down. "Can you… can you get me another plate of food? No one will mess with you! If you do I'll, I'll… I'll make the next sermon extra long!"

Ascension thought about it. "Thirty extra minutes."

"Throw in a dessert and I'll make it forty five minutes longer."

"Deal."

Sentzke hurried to his chair and sat in eager and giddy anticipation until his commander returned with a plate of food and a small dessert. "Here you go, Deacon. I expect a great deal of effort to be put into your next sermon. More effort than you were willing to expend getting your own food."

Sentzke had already filled his mouth with pork and a helping of every side on his plate before Ascension could finish talking. "Mmph. Bsure thingf." Sentzke had gotten a good deal as far as he was concerned. He enjoyed giving sermons, and he knew the teenage members of Ascension's army, the ones most likely to pick on him, hated having to sit through them. He reveled in their boredom.

"Another thing, Sentzke. I'd like you to check on my personal flotilla tomorrow. Make sure the sips are ready to be sailed. We're heading up the coast soon."

Sentzke swallowed. He hated the captain of Ascension's flagship, and he knew checking on the ships would mean having to talk to him. "Why me?"

"Or you could stay here and help me get the troops ready."

"Er… alright I'll go."

* * *

The following day, immediately following an hour and forty five minute long sermon, Sentzke went back to the port _Matriarch's Vindication_ was still docked in. A number of spaces away from the galleon, docked in much smaller facilities, was Ascension's flotilla. The high ranking inquisitor had three ships under her command, the caravels _Heretical Dictata_ and _Proclamation of the Forsworn_ , and the flagship _Reclamation's Tithe_. Sentzke first inspected the caravels, and he was given tours of the ships by their captains, Captain Ponders and Captain Forsell respectively. Sentzke stalled as long as he could, but he was eventually forced to board the _Reclamation's Tithe_ and converse with its captain, an obnoxious man named Crespo.

"Sentzke! Old buddy! It's been some time hasn't it?!" Captain Crespo was a tall man with curly blonde hair and green eyes he kept in an unsettling and unhinged stare. He wore an elaborate red and gold outfit he had once taken off a slain pirate lord with an ego almost as large as his, and he was very vain in general. He was covered in jewelry and piercings, and his Mark of Grima was tattooed right on his forehead. Relatively unique to him was its color. His tattoo was blood red, whereas most Grimleal personnel got their required tattoo in black or blue ink. Crespo would be an intimidating sight if Sentzke didn't know he had the maturity of a child.

Crespo greeted Sentzke by maneuvering behind him, wrapping his arm around his neck, and running his knuckles across the top of his head while laughing. "Gah! S-stop! STOP! GET OFF!"

"Ha! Just messing with you, your _arse_ holiness. So what brings you by my ship? Here for an inspection?"

"Yeah. Ascension wants to sail soon, and I just want to get this over with."

"Ha! Nonsense. I'll give you the full tour. We're already fit for sailing. Let me show you."

Crespo lead Sentzke on a long tour of the ship. He was very intelligent in naval matters, and he knew how to keep his ship in good shape. At the same time he had a tendency to drone on and on about how impressive the ship was or his own personal accomplishments, so Sentzke was only half listening. The _Reclamation's Tithe_ was given to Ascension by Aversa as a gift, and it was easily her favorite possession. For centuries, naval warfare had been dominated by large warships. Bigger ships could hold more boarding crew, and they were more destructive when ramming. While this was largely still true, gunpowder weapons were slowly starting to change the nature of combat between ships. Just as armies were increasingly relying on firearms, heavy cannons and mortars were being added to ships. To further distance herself from her "primitive" background, Ascension was quick to jump on technological advancements. At great expense, she had the _Reclamation's Tithe_ outfitted with twenty cannons, ten on each side. Four heavy mortars were also installed on the back of the ship, allowing it to attack distant targets and even giving it the ability to bombard targets on land. For its size, the ship was one of the most heavily armed in the world.

Besides just having cannons, _Reclamation's Tithe_ represented a new doctrine of ship design. Though bigger was still better, speed and maneuverability were increasingly being taken into account. Larger ships were tough but slow, and small ships were quick but fragile. Many ship designers sought to bridge this gap, and to this end they created a new class of warship called the frigate. Frigates were designed to be much larger and more powerful than lighter cogs, caravels and carracks, but they could easily outrun and turn circles around galleons and most heavy merchant vessels. To make them lighter, they generally only had one or two decks, and were designed to be much narrower than heavier warships. Frigates could be outsailed by smaller ships and overpowered by larger ships, but they had no crippling weaknesses.

 _Reclamation's Tithe_ was thirty eight meters long from bow to stern, and it had a displacement of 1,000 tons. The ship only had two decks, but it could hold some two hundred people. The ship was dwarfed by the _Matriarch's Vindication_ , but it was much larger than the two caravels, and it easily intimidated most merchant vessels and smaller warships. Crespo's vanity extended to the ship, and he had blood red stripes painted horizontally along the ship's hull. The square rigged sails also had blood red stripes running vertically, and the Mark of Grima was emblazoned on the center. A sculpture of the Fell Dragon, its four wings outstretched, was used as the ship's figurehead. The ship's personal flag, flying high atop the ship's main mast, was a red banner with the Mark of Grima in the center and two black stripes running horizontally down the sides.

Sailing ships could attract rat infestations if the crew weren't careful, and _Reclamation's Tithe_ had a cat to prevent this. A female gray, short haired cat named Grima the Fell Kitty lived on the ship. She hated Sentzke in particular, and Sentzke hated her. He was about to inquire about her absence when the cat jumped on his back and clawed at him as many times as she could before Sentzke finally threw her off. Grima the Fell Kitty hissed at him before scurrying back into the ship's corridors, leaving Sentzke covered in scratches and Crespo laughing hysterically. "I-I forgot about how much s-she hates you! Ha! Oh man. This is going to be a fun voyage!"

"It's not supposed to be fun! This is a serious mission! Aversa needs these assets, and some of Gangrel's forces might violently resist our appropriation of their resources."

"Don't worry, your holiness. We'll be fine. Did you find everything to be in order?"

"Yeah. I'll tell Ascension that the ships are ready. Just let me off this thing."

* * *

Dartsmoth hadn't just questioned Donald while visiting the town Chrom had lived in for the past twenty years. He also questioned almost everyone in the town. Most people didn't know much about him. They described him as a quiet old man that rarely did anything but scavenge, drink, and keep to himself in his house. Dartsmoth noted that someone had told the townspeople of Mercer's true identity shortly before he left, and he figured it was most likely Courtney, the agent responsible for taking Chrom to the Rockpile before Caeldori's riot. Though Dartsmoth had gathered little information on Chrom from the townspeople, what he did learn was still very enlightening. Mercer had truly been a broken and depressed man before his unexpected attack on Courtney's power base. Something had triggered this response. Something had motivated him again.

Dartsmoth currently stood in front of Mercer's old house. He had sent the twelve Deadlords away to avoid scaring off the townspeople, but they now stood by his side once more, awaiting orders. Dartsmoth paid them little mind. He just eyed the house Mercer had lived in for two decades and thought about his target.

"Mercer really was a different bloke wasn't he, Chrom? He would have disgusted your younger self." Dartsmoth lit a cigarette and paced back and forth, focusing his thoughts. "From what I know about you, it seems you were a very driven man. Emmeryn wanted a new age of pacifism, and you shake your head and build a militia under your own authority. No government oversight whatsoever. Gangrel wants Ylisse to surrender, and you fight back. Carve a bloody swath through Plegia even as the rest of the Ylissean military buckles and end the war by defeating Gangrel personally. Walhart wants to bring all humanity under his boot, and you rally a diverse alliance of people all fighting for their own sovereignty to overwhelm him. The Grimleal say Robin's destiny is to be the Hierophant, and that Grima's rise is inevitable, and you fight them until your army gives out under you. You were a driven, stubborn man. You weren't a statesman, and you weren't just a soldier. You were something more dangerous. An ideologically driven man with a natural predilection for violence. You didn't just kill people, you killed people and stuck your chin up about it." Dartsmoth took a deep inhale and slowly exhaled smoke into the face of Mus, leader of the Deadlords. He chuckled to himself as even having smoke blown in its face didn't make Mus react. "But then the Shepherds fall. You were driven by a desire to help people. By having your friends and family by your side. When they all fell by your hand, it broke you. You turned into a man that would make your younger self throw up, and you'd probably strangle your younger self if you could get your hands on him now. So why are you fighting again? Why did you become Chrom again, or is Chrom really gone? Are you someone else entirely now?"

Dartsmoth finally entered the building. The first thing he noticed was how much of a mess it was. The floor was covered with scorch marks, and a badly burned pig with a piercing wound was lying decomposed on the floor. There were even blood stains on the ground. The house truly hadn't been inhabited since Courtney captured the group. Dartsmoth walked further into the structure until he found the chest of personal belongings that Chrom had tried to take before Courtney attacked. There were only a handful of items on the floor. A short sword, two books, baby clothes, and a wedding ring. Dartsmoth ran his fingers along the objects, and images flashed through his head. When he touched the wedding ring, he saw Chrom as a young man talking to a blonde woman in a pink dress. The baby clothes showed him an image of the time displaced Lucina talking to the same woman. One of the books showed Chrom talking to a white haired man in a robe, and the other showed a woman reading to Chrom as a little boy many decades ago. The sword showed Chrom, younger than he was now but still older than he was when he was fighting with the Shepherds, talking to a younger Donald. Dartsmoth rose to his feet. "I just don't get it. What made him start fighting again?"

Dartsmoth wandered through the house until he came across what looked like Chrom's bedroom. He briefly checked through drawers and shelves, and he found clothing that looked like it would be for an adult man. Dartsmoth decided that this was most likely his bedroom, and he began to strip off his clothing. "Well like I always say. To find a bloke, you have to understand how he thinks. Sleeping in his bed, being where he was, is a good start." Dartsmoth stripped down until he was wearing only his breeches and sunglasses, and then climbed into what had been Chrom's bed. "Mmm. Come on, Chrom. Let me hear your dreams."

That night, Dartsmoth had a dream about that fateful day thirty years prior. He seemed to be in Chrom's body, but he was also an impartial observer. He couldn't control Chrom's movements at all, and everything was as if on rails. Dartsmoth just watched in glee as Chrom threw himself at the men and women that trusted him more than anything. Notably, Dartsmoth didn't see the Shepherds as Risen like Chrom did. He saw everything exactly as it was, and he paid particular attention to what everyone was saying.

"Chrom! What are you doing?!"

"Are we under attack?!"

"Wait no! NO!"

"Gregor is confused?"

"Try not to hit him. Just restrain him!"

"Get the Falchion!"

"It's me?! IT'S ME!"

"Please *sobbing* don't cut!"

"Get him down!"

"I can't find Robin!"

"Look at his eyes!"

"Can't you see us?! Chrom!"

"We trusted you!"

"This is not happening!"

"Get up. Get up!"

"Get away from us!"

"Why can't you hear us?!"

" _ **FATHER**_!"

Dartsmoth woke up and shot upwards. "Ha! I've got it! Just leave my baby in the cold for the timber wolves, I've got it!" Dartsmoth put his feet down on the floor as quickly as he could and telekinetically dressed himself. He noticed the cigarette he neglected to finish, shrugged at the waste, and lit another one. He rushed through the house and back into the open air. It was still night out, but he didn't care. He just needed someone to talk to, to share his revelations with. He found his audience in the Deadlords, still loyally standing outside the house. They didn't say much, but Dartsmoth only wanted them to listen. "I've figured it out, mates! Nothing inspired Chrom to fight for the world again! Nothing! He's too damn broken to think that the world could be anything but fucked up beyond all repair. Everything's FUBAR to him." Dartsmoth turned to Mus. "But he still cares about people. He doesn't care about ideology or bettering the world anymore because he doesn't think the world can be saved. He doesn't think he has the answers anymore. He knows he became complacent in his belief that he knew exactly how to fix the world as a younger man, and he doesn't want to fight for it anymore. Why is he fighting us now? Because he still has his love of people. He'll still do anything for the ones he cares about. It's what drives him. It's all he cares about now. He thinks he's been given another chance with the people he's with now, and he thinks fighting with them is penance. Now I have a theory, and it's a real corker of a theory, but I need to test it." Dartsmoth turned to Mus and smiled. "And I know just how to do it."

When Dartsmoth had inquired further about the Deadlords with Altman, he told him that they were made from the bodies of the Shepherds. Dartsmoth didn't know exactly who the Deadlords were, but he had a hunch on who Mus was, especially after realizing the body Mus was reincarnated from was female. Dartsmoth walked over to the Deadlord and slowly removed its helmet, confirming his suspicions. Though the skin was discolored and had a sickly blackish purple look to it, and though the eyes now shone bright red, the face was undeniably that of Lucina. Her Brand of the Exalt was even still visible on the left eye, though it was now a black silhouette against the red. Dartsmoth smiled and took a few steps closer to Mus. "Hold still, babydoll. This might sting."

Dartsmoth ran his finger along Mus' forehead and, just as with the items, images began to flash through his head. Dartsmoth was immediately bombarded with Mus' memories. If he were less skilled with this ability, he would have been overwhelmed by the millennia of memories he was seeing, but he blocked it out until he finally reached the memories of the body Mus had been reincarnated from. Dartsmoth immediately went for memories Lucina had of Chrom, and he focused on one that Lucina herself seemed to value very highly. Dartsmoth concentrated, and it became more than an image. It was as if he were there, and he could see and hear everything that happened. Lucina is standing with her side turned towards Chrom, and then she faces him. Chrom stares at her in confusion before realizing what she was trying to show him. The Brand of the Exalt was on her left eye. It was the same place his newborn daughter had her brand. Dartsmoth realized that Chrom didn't know who the time displaced Lucina was until this moment.

"That's the Brand of the Exalt…" Chrom looks at Lucina again, but differently this time. "Lucina…" His gaze is drawn to the Falchion at her side. "You deserved better from me than one sword and a world of troubles. I'm sorry."

Lucina's stoic look breaks down, and her face begins to contort with sadness. It's not misery though. Rather, she seemed to be releasing emotions she had been hiding for some time. Chrom wipes her tears away, and she hugs him tightly. Dartsmoth pays close attention to Chrom. To his voice. To his expression. To his body language. "Oh, father!" Lucina cries into Chrom's shoulder, but Chrom just holds her. "Father."

Dartsmoth pulled himself back to reality, finding Mus still staring at him blankly. Dartsmoth knew the people he used his ability on also saw what he saw, yet Mus didn't react at all to the emotional memory of its host. Lucina truly was gone. Mus was a separate individual entirely. An undead parasite leeching off of Lucina's strength. Dartsmoth tossed the armored Deadlord its helmet, and Mus put it back on. "He didn't know you. At that point, you were just the strange woman he kept running into. Hell he didn't even know the daughter he actually conceived that well. All she did was eat, cry, sleep, poop, and stare at things. He knew jack diddly shit about you, but the moment he realizes you're his daughter, he loves you. Just like that. You were his daughter from that point on, like he'd known you your whole life, and hell he probably thought that more than you did. That's just who he is. He loves people. He'll do anything for the ones he cares about." Dartsmoth drew his farakveða tome. "If Chrom wants to protect his friends, but doesn't think the world can be fixed anymore, than he won't care where he goes. His group would just wander around aimlessly after escaping the Rockpile with no destination in mind, but he wouldn't abandon them. He'd go wherever they went. If his group didn't move with a destination in mind, then they would be very likely to stay in the area, and that would mean they would likely come into contact with the Arch Surg at some point. If they did, they'd be taken to the largest Arch Surg settlement in the area."

Dartsmoth used his tome to hail Al-Amin, and he responded almost instantly. "Inquisitor Dartsmoth."

"Take me to Nowi Falls. Oh, and take my diggers too."

Al-Amin's blank face almost showed concern. "Nowi Falls? Arch Surg infestation present."

"Oh I bet that's not true anymore. Things tend to change whenever Chrom shows up."

"Your safety. Jeopardized."

"Just do it you piker." Dartsmoth ended the transmission and turned back to Mus. "Clench up, buttercup." Less than a minute later, a blast of dark magic hurtled to Dartsmoth's position and materialized into a flat disc. The disc flung itself to the ground, and Dartsmoth and the Deadlords disappeared as they passed through it.

When Courtney assumed command of the Grimleal 4th army, he mostly used it to lure away the city's main garrison. He did have its scouting units probe Nowi Falls before the attack however. Those scouting units helped Courtney to plan his attack, and they waited patiently for him to return afterwards. Courtney never did come back, as he wished to hide his failure from his emperor. After days of waiting, the scouts finally decided to investigate the city's fate for themselves.

The smell inside the city's walls was absolutely excruciating. The city square, where the Tunnellers had created their body pile, was rendered inhospitable by the stench, and the dozens of corpses still scattered around other parts of the city didn't create a pleasant odor either. There were no human inhabitants left in this city at this point, and in their place were hundreds of buzzards. They gorged themselves on the free feast, and the Grimleal scouts sometimes had to chase them away to move through the streets. Noxious as the smell was, the scouts were trained to power through it. They were busy investigating signs of Courtney's attack, trying to figure out what he was unwilling to report about. There were two anomalies that stood out above all others. Cordelia's remains found buried in a shallow grave, and a corpse they confirmed as Dr. Kryczek's.

"Damn." The lead scout sighed as he stood over Kryczek's body. Though buzzards had picked at it, the desert climate had otherwise slowed the rate of decomposition. "Gangrel's suspicions were correct. Kryczek was KIA. Without him, the Reaver program has been shot in the foot."

The man's subordinate walked over to him. Like all scouts he wore full body leather armor, colored black, and a metal helmet that concealed his face. All the scouts had light melee weapons on them, and the lead scout had a carbine by his side. "What about Gangrel's chief Enforcer? E-13? Any sign of her?"

"None. She must have escaped. That's good news at least. The Emperor only lost one of his favorite people."

The lead scout looked up at the night sky, and his attempt to concentrate on its beauty and peacefulness was ruined as a purple disc suddenly rose up from the ground behind him. He turned to find Dartsmoth and the Deadlords staring at him, Dartsmoth still smoking his cigarette. "Wonderful night isn't it, mates?" Dartsmoth's nose crinkled. "Ah! Okay who opened their lunch? What is that smell?"

"What are you doing here, Inquisitor?"

"Snuggle rooting with your mum. None of your fuckin' bizzo what I'm doing here, recon." Dartsmoth sniffed a few times and recoiled. "By Validar's pointy beard it smells horrible here. It smells worse than the Fell Dragon when it flies with its mouth open too long and has to let out excess air."

"The Fell Dragon… farts?"

"Take a trip to High Point sometime and find out for yourself." Dartsmoth held his cigarette to his nose, preferring the smoke to the stench of death. "Anyways, what are you fine government men doing here?"

"Operations Commander Courtney lead an attack here a few days ago. He was trying to take out Chrom and Ophelia for the Emperor, but the attack seems to have failed."

"Seems to have?"

"Courtney never reported back to the Emperor, so no one knows exactly what happened. We're investigating."

"So Chrom definitely was here?"

"Yes. He and Ophelia seem to have escaped, but there was one member of their group that didn't make it. Cordelia seems to have died in the attack. This confirms that Chrom and Ophelia are traveling with multiple individuals."

Dartsmoth smiled and considered everything he was hearing. "Tell you what. How would you boys like a new job?"

"We have a duty to fill."

"Let me rephrase that. Do you know of Black Authority? An order given by the Fell Dragon itself that allows the High Inquisitor and her high ranking agents to appropriate resources and personnel from Gangrel?"

"Yeah…"

"Black Authority has been issued, and since I'm a high ranking Inquisitor in service to the High Inquisitor, I have the ability to appropriate people as I see fit. Come on. We've got work to do."

The lead scout tensed up. "What?! I serve the Emperor, not that sycophantic cultist!"

"We're people! You can't just take us!" The other scout yelled. Dartsmoth just shrugged.

"Fine. Lair it up. Be like that. Deadlords! Relieve them of their little lives."

The lead scout reacted quickly. He drew his carbine and fired at Mus, but the bullet deflected off the Deadlord's heavy plate armor. A split second later an arrow from Draco, the Deadlord that had been created from Noire, impaled itself in the man's throat. He fell to his back, and his subordinate quickly threw his hands into the air. "Waitwaitwait! We give up! We give up!"

"Excellent." Dartsmoth walked over to the man and ripped the arrow out of his throat. Lepus, the Deadlord that had been created from Morgan, applied a healing staff to the man immediately after, narrowly saving him from death. "You strapping young men work for me now. Understand? Now show me your significant discoveries."

Dartsmoth cared little about Kryczek's death, but he was interested in Cordelia's remains. E-13 had hacked her body to pieces, but her severed head was relatively intact. To the revulsion of the Grimleal scouts, Dartsmoth picked up her head and stared into it. The skin was splotchy and falling apart, and the already malformed eyes had degenerated into mush, but the rest of the head was undefiled, such that Cordelia's face was still stuck in an expression of shock and confusion. "Well, well. So this is Cordelia. The last Pegasus Knight. The last one that mattered anyways." Dartsmoth brushed her still attached red hair out of her face and ran his finger along her forehead. "Hopefully your brain is still intact enough for me to do this." Just as before, Dartsmoth was able to experience Cordelia's memories. He initially focused on the ones involving Chrom, but apparently Cordelia thought about Chrom a lot over the years. He had to concentrate to find the memories of her more recent interactions with him. Cordelia's blindness prevented him from getting any visual data, but he was able to hear everything she heard in the last moments of her life. Dartsmoth relived the attack on Nowi Falls from Cordelia's perspective, and from that he learned everything he needed to confirm his theory. Dartsmoth pulled himself back to reality and turned back to Mus. "Think fast!" He tossed Cordelia's severed head at Mus, but it just bounced off the Deadlord's armor. "Yeesh. Nothing fazes you huh?"

"W-what the hell was that?!" One of the scouts exclaimed in exasperation.

"I was experiencing her memories, and I've confirmed my theory. It was a real rip snorter of a theory too. I just knew it! Chrom was brought here, and he really didn't have any destination in mind. He only cared about protecting his allies. If he didn't care about where he ended up, then he'd go with the Arch Surg forces when they evacuated this city. Just like that we're much closer to finding him. Now we just have to check the surrounding settlements. Someone is bound to know more about where he is."


	27. The Imperial Creeper

Ever since childhood Chrom had suffered through his fair share of injuries, and even in middle age he was still quite capable of taking hits. As many injuries as he had taken fighting with the Shepherds, his ability to recover from them came entirely from the healing items and magic they had access to. Deprived of these things, and without even Cordelia's experience with battlefield medicine, the group had no way of treating the injuries they'd taken in Fort Morgan. Crammed onto the backs of Aurora and Minerva, the group flew as far away as they could before finally landing to tend to their increasingly severe wounds. Chrom had been trying to ignore his injuries, particularly the stab wound Celica's Einherjar had given him, but his spirit was tougher than his aging body. Chrom was sitting behind Ophelia on Minerva's back, and she periodically glanced back at him out of worry. She was the one to make the group stop after seeing that the bottom of Chrom's shirt had become a very dark red.

"Ophelia. Please. I-I'm fine."

Ophelia dismounted Minerva and turned back to her great uncle. "You're not fine! You're covered in blood! We need to stop!"

"No! We need to keep going! They can't catch us!"

"We're kilometers away! They won't find us here! Not if we stop for a little bit. We need to treat that injury."

"I'm fine!" Chrom tried to dismount Minerva himself but then screamed as he put weight on his injury and crumpled off. He had managed to quickly bandage the wound before leaving Fort Morgan, but the bandaging had since come off. Chrom lifted up his shirt to see that the force of hitting the ground had also reopened the wound, and he was now bleeding as profusely as before. He had already lost a lot of blood, and now he was rapidly losing consciousness.

"Chrom!" Ophelia looked to see that Caeldori had landed Aurora. She quickly dismounted alongside Gaius and Henry. "Grandfather! Please help us!" She called towards them.

"Oh no! Oh no, oh no!" Soleil exclaimed as she dismounted Minerva. "Aw man. What did we do the last time he bled out in front of us?"

"We took him to Cordelia!"

"Well… that's not exactly an option anymore."

Ophelia stood over Chrom and tried to stop the bleeding as Henry and Caeldori gathered around him, but Chrom could do little besides mutter. "I-I'm fine. Really."

"Someone do something!" Ophelia turned to Caeldori with pleading eyes, but she returned a sad expression and shook her head.

"I… I can try to stabilize him but… I'm not exactly my grandmother."

Ophelia turned to Henry, who had his usual cheery expression. Henry's own injury had stopped bleeding, but his nose was still disfigured. "Please, grandfather! Is there anything you can do?!"

"Hmm. Let me take a look." Henry knelt beside his brother in law and lifted up his shirt further. Alongside his recent stab wound, Chrom's chest also featured the long scar on his lower abdomen from when E-13 cut open his intestines, the electrical burns from Courtney's Levin Sword, the bullet wound from Theresa, burn marks from Micaiah's light magic, a bruise from Farber striking him in Nowi Falls, and countless other small cuts and injuries. "Well he's falling apart isn't he? I'm not sure all the Exalt's horses and all the Exalt's men could put him back together again. Nya ha ha!"

"This isn't a time for jokes, Junior!" Gaius roared. Henry stood up.

"I disagree. Anyways, I think I could use dark healing on him."

Ophelia tensed up, and Caeldori and Soleil shivered as they remembered the experience. "But grandfather… you said dark healing required a sacrifice. You said it drained life energy from living things. Who could you do that to?"

"It doesn't have to be a person. I can use other creatures." Henry looked around. The group had landed in such a hurry that no one paid attention to the surrounding environment until just now. The most striking features were the mushrooms rising out of the dust and shale. Each mushroom stalk was at least a meter in height, and some were taller than any human. Everyone except Ophelia temporarily lost interest in Chrom and looked around in wonder. Even Minerva and Aurora investigated the fungal growths, wondering if they could represent a meal. "Woah! There's a humongous fungus among us, nya ha ha!"

"The Imperial Creeper." Caeldori responded. "A fungal organism that lives in Ferox."

Ophelia looked up, curious. "Wait… did you say organism? But there's multiple mushrooms. Dozens."

"The Imperial Creeper is named so for its size and ability to spread rapidly across the land. It's an underground organism. Multiple colonies connected through mycelium. It's all part of the same individual. In fact it's probably the largest individual organism on the planet, save for the Fell Dragon itself. It stretches for kilometers. All these mushrooms you see sprout each autumn to release spores. They may be separate from each other, but they're all connected. We're standing on one massive living thing."

Soleil looked back to Caeldori in exasperation. "Hold up. I get that you're knowledgeable in a lot of things but come on! Did Cordelia once take time out of her day to teach you about a mushroom?!"

"Read a book every once in awhile, Soleil. You might learn something."

Ophelia's face lit up. "Grandfather, could you use dark healing on the mushrooms? Could that give you the energy you need to help Chrom?"

Henry shrugged. "Weirder things have happened."

"Great! We can save him, and we won't hurt anything! If all these mushrooms are part of one life form, losing a few mushrooms won't kill it!"

"Do you really have feelings for mushrooms, Blondie?"

Ophelia looked at Gaius defiantly. "All life has value."

"Ha! Oh that's… you're serious?" Gaius looked to Henry, who had also laughed.

"I thought it was a joke too."

"How the hell did a girl like that ever come from you?"

* * *

As much as the world has changed since the Fell Dragon's resurrection, nothing has altered it more than the pestilence Grima released into the land. Grima's Blight is a poorly understood disease, but the effect it has had on the planet is clear for all to see. The Blight kills plants of all kinds. Everything from crops, to grasses, to trees are destroyed by the sickness, and there is no cure or treatment. Seeds will not sprout, and healthy plants brought into the area will die within an alarmingly short period of time. Entire swaths of land have been made infertile, and massive sections of the population have lost their livelihoods. Though most of the continent's farmland was destroyed by the Blight long ago, the disease still exists. It lies dormant within infected soil, and even the strongest and hardiest of plants will quickly die if moved into this soil. Countless plant species have been rendered extinct in the Ylissean and Valmese continents, and the planet has been plunged into a period of mass extinction as other animal, fungal, and microscopic species that depended on these plants have perished. The only reason humanity itself hasn't starved is because the Fell Dragon allows the Grimleal to maintain a few stretches of fertile land, free from the Blight. Most cities need to import food from these areas to feed themselves, thus increasing their dependence on the Grimleal. Only the largest and richest settlements and organizations can manage to get their food from anywhere else. They either turn to more esoteric means of getting food, or they smuggle uninfected soil in at great risk and expense.

Some academics believe the Blight to be a kind of fungal infection, and they suggest the effect it has had on fungi as evidence of this. Though the Blight destroys plants, it actually seems to have accelerated the growth of some kinds of fungal species. The layman commonly thinks of fungi as a type of plant, but they're an entirely different kind of lifeform. Millions of years before plants even evolved to live on land, the world's continents were covered in forests of fungal growths. Some individuals were heavier and longer than even the largest of trees. As plants colonized this new environment, the fungi were driven off. Since then they've only flourished in unique ecological niches that plants don't usually compete for. They break down decomposing plant and animal materials, and they form symbiotic growths with microorganisms and larger plants, but the primacy of fungi in the world's biosphere had otherwise come to an end.

But the destruction of most plant life on Ylisse and Valm, and quite possibly the entire rest of the world's continents, has changed this. Areas of land that had once nurtured vibrant and flourishing forests now contained little more than the rotting husks of towering trees, and fungal growths thrive on this biomass. Woody forests have since become dominated by fungi so thick that one couldn't take a step without trodding on some living thing. Beyond that, these fungal growths have even managed to spread into the areas of the badlands that still get regular rainfall. While mushrooms flourish in the remnants of old forests, some sections of the badlands have mats of fungal material growing right out of the dirt. Kilometers of the continent are now dominated by these growths, and these areas have since become known as the Fungal Lands.

Grima's Blight seems to have done more than just alter the environment to favor fungal growth. It actually mutated some species of fungi, producing individuals more aggressive and virulent than anything in recorded history. Many mutated species produce spores with such intensity that traveling to these areas of the Fungal Lands can cause health complications, and other individuals grew so rapidly that they could overtake buildings. Such was the fate of Arena Ferox. The city that had once been of great importance to Regna Ferox had already been sparsely inhabited since the Fell Dragon took over the world, and the area was beset upon by a particularly nasty fungal growth. Mushrooms grew right inside of buildings, and their spores caused lung difficulties. The city eventually had to be abandoned, and reportedly even Grimleal military installations have since been overtaken by fungal infestations.

As harmful as the fungal growths can be to people, certain species of edible fungi have also thrived in the new environments Grima's Blight created. Many eke out a living by farming these mushrooms. For the people that knew only farming before the pestilence made it impossible, tending to these mushrooms was a way to return to that life. To relative normalcy. It was preferable to the alternatives of working with the Grimleal, mining, or finding some other kind of manual labor. Isaiah was one of these people; a middle aged man who lived as a farmer before Grima's rise that now got by through fungal cultivation.

Isaiah wiped the sweat from his brow as he laboriously picked edible mushrooms one by one from the ground. Isaiah was in his late forties. A few dark gray hairs accentuated the small amount of stubble on his worn and tired face, but his short and curly hair was otherwise a violet color so deep that it almost looked brown. He wore simple farmer's clothes, tattered and dirty, and his lower pants were covered in sand and dust. Isaiah lived where the arid badlands met the Fungal Lands. The lack of rainfall in the area kept most fungal species at bay, but the hardier species, possibly mutated by Grima's Blight, managed to creep into the area. Thankfully, many of these organisms were edible. Deep down, Isaiah longed for the days of his youth, when he farmed conventional crops and livestock. Raising these mushrooms was the closest he could get to it, and he much preferred this lifestyle to any alternatives.

For most of human civilization's history, the average person lived in a rural environment and sustained themselves through farming. Grima's Blight made this impossible in the modern world. People must live near settlements to get their supplies, as materials and foodstuffs society used to take for granted have to be imported from the few fertile areas of the continent left. Isaiah was no exception. He couldn't feed his family through mushrooms alone, so he had to live near a large town to sustain himself. Just a few kilometers south of his homestead was a city known as The Saltworks. With farming now impossible in most areas, a great many uneducated workers turned to mining. Founded just fifteen years ago around, as the name suggests, a major salt mine, The Saltworks stands as one of the largest cities in southwestern Ferox. The city makes its fortune selling salt to the Grimleal, and in turn it has the money to support a thriving economy. Shops and businesses of all kinds prosper by selling goods and services to the miners, and these merchants also pay farmers like Isaiah for their mushroom harvests. Besides farming edible fungi, Isaiah also works to kill off any dangerous species that try to colonize his property. Cities by the Fungal Lands always face the danger of being overrun, and so The Saltworks government itself pays Isaiah and other farmers directly to be vigilant for signs of infestation. Through these sources of income, Isaiah can largely live with his family comfortably. Occasionally he had to work as a freelance miner in the salt mines themselves to make ends meet, but he mostly enjoyed the considerably less dangerous life of a farmer. It was nothing like the life had once lived, but Isaiah knew first hand how bad things had gotten for some people since the Grimleal took over. At the very least he was able to raise a family.

Isaiah forced himself to pick mushrooms until his legs finally screamed for some rest, at which point he allowed himself a quick break. He sat in silence for a few minutes until he heard the sound of brief and rapid footsteps behind him. He smiled and turned to look at his seven year old daughter as she ran towards him, but his expression became more worried as he realized what she was holding.

"Look, daddy!" Isaiah's young daughter wore a simple pink dress, also covered in sand and dust. Her hair had the color of her father's, but the intensity of her mother's, and so she was given bright violet hair she kept in two pigtails. "Look what I found! Isn't it neat!"

"Sarah! No! Put that down!" Sarah's excited look faded as her father rushed over and took the object from her hand. It had been a large mushroom, about as large as the girl's head, that notably glowed a bright blue. It appeared to have been responding to Sarah's touch, as the light faded once the mushroom cap was thrown to the ground.

"Y-you don't like it, daddy?" Sarah asked innocently.

"What did I tell you 'bout picking up strange shrooms?! That could o' been dangerous!"

Sarah looked genuinely remorseful. "I… I'm sorry, daddy."

"Why don't you listen to me?!"

"Oh come on, honey. She didn't mean nothing by it." Isaiah turned to see his wife approaching. She was a few years younger than Isaiah, though still in her forties. She wore a simple red dress covered with an apron, and she had long, bright golden hair. "She just wanted to show her father something she thought you'd like."

"Yeah, daddy! I ain't never seen a glowing one before. I just wanted to show you."

Isaiah looked at his daughter, who stared back with puppy dog eyes. He finally smiled and beckoned for her to come closer. "Yeah, alright. I'm sorry, dear." He ran his hand through his daughter's hair, and her smile returned. "I tell you not to pick up strange fungi for a reason. Some of it is toxic, even to the touch. I just want you to be safe, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"What's sentiment, daddy?"

"I'm saying it's the thought that counts."

"Oh! Okay!"

"Run along now, Sarah." Isaiah's wife added. "Supper is ready." Sarah eagerly sprinted back towards the house, and her mother turned to Isaiah. "And that goes for you too, mister."

"That time already, Matilda? I'm not done harvesting yet. I knew I was runnin' late today."

"Come on, darling. Families are meant to eat suppers together. 'Sides you got to go into town and pick up supplies still."

"Right. What're we havin'?"

"Mushroom casserole. What else?"

Isaiah's stomach grumbled, but not in anticipation. "Well food is food… I guess."

"We'd finally get some meat and bread if you'd head into town. All the more reason not to put it off."

"I'll consider that motivation. Alright, I'll head out after supper. Just let me gather these here shrooms. Get my Ma's meal started and I'll be back to help you serve the kids."

Matilda smiled and gave her husband a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. "Love you, dear."

Isaiah watched his second wife walk away as he gathered the picked mushrooms into his baskets. "I love you too… more than you could know."

* * *

Mercifully, Henry's dark magic did work on the Imperial Creeper stalks. One by one he would siphon some kind of energy from the mushrooms, reducing them to shriveled and crumpled piles of dead material, and transfer a sickly green energy into the wounded. The process was painful and strangely produced a foul odor, but the group's injuries were mostly healed. Ophelia and Soleil's minor shrapnel injuries were treated, and Chrom's stab wound closed. He still didn't regain consciousness, but his breathing and pulse were regular.

"There!" Henry smiled to his granddaughter and stood triumphantly over Chrom's body. "All better! That was a persistent princely piercing wound, but he's fine now."

"But… why won't he wake up?"

Henry shrugged and tapped Chrom with his foot. "I don't know. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Ophelia smiled back, but she was having a hard time looking right at him. "Grandfather, your nose?"

"What about it?"

"It still has a hole in it! Will healing not work on it?"

"Huh? Oh, OH! Yeah! That did happen to me."

"You forgot?! Isn't that incredibly painful?!"

"Of course, but I don't know. I kind of like it. It stings so good!" Henry inspected his wound with his fingers, and Ophelia had to turn away in disgust. "I don't think it's that bad."

"Please, grandfather." Ophelia stuttered as she struggled with her queasiness. "Please do something about it."

"Alright. I just don't see why it's a big deal." Henry walked a few meters away to find a mushroom he hadn't destroyed. He transferred the same green energy as before into himself while holding his nose in place, and the injury disappeared. Henry seemed more upset than anything by it. "Aw. Now it's just a boring old nose again."

Ophelia glanced off into the distance to see Caeldori resting on the ground. Besides Chrom's wound, Caeldori's injuries were among the most severe. Shrapnel had torn off a lot of the skin on her right thigh, and a few particularly large pieces were visibly buried in her leg. Some parts of Caeldori's thigh were so badly savaged that it looked like there wasn't any skin there at all, but Caeldori had been hiding the severity of her injury. She covered much of it with bandaging before leaving Fort Morgan and acted like the wound wasn't serious, but it was actually giving her incredible pain. Even Henry's dark magic hadn't been the end of it. Most of the flesh on Caeldori's thigh had grown back, but some of it was discolored and refusing to heal properly. These spots marked dangerously large pieces of shrapnel that were now embedded into her leg, as Henry's healing didn't remove them and the skin had grown around it. Caeldori's wound was far from stable, and the shrapnel still inside of it caused her significant discomfort, but still she tried to hide it. She acted like her leg had been completely healed, but Ophelia was too observant. She noticed Caeldori still limped when she walked and rested a lot. Knowing how much she hated to show vulnerability of any kind, Ophelia was increasingly wondering if something was still wrong. She knew Caeldori could be pretty stubborn about these things, but her growing concern was eating away at her. She had to confront her about it.

"Caeldy?"

Caeldori had been running her hand along one of the discolored spots on her leg when she turned to see her friend approaching. She quickly tried to act like she had simply been scratching and stood up, though there was a noticeable wince as her right leg bore her weight. "Phelia! I mean… Phelia."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine w-why?"

Ophelia glanced around and ran her hand down the back of her neck as she searched for the right words. "You know… you know we all look up to you right? Soleil and I? You're a lot more talented than the two of us. We only got a few years of training from Cordelia after all, but she's been forging you into a soldier since you were a girl. You're very inspiring. Even Chrom and Gaius are impressed, and I know how proud Cordelia was."

"Um… thank you. But there's no need to put yourselves down. You and Soleil are-"

"No please! Accept the compliment. We could both learn a lot from you."

"Alright?"

"So…" Ophelia looked Caeldori in the eye. "There's no need to hide any weakness from us. We wouldn't think any less of you. It doesn't make you a burden."

"What?! What are you-"

"Your leg, Caeldy. It's not better is it?"

"It's fine!"

Ophelia stepped forward and very gently tapped Caeldori's thigh, but she acted like Ophelia stabbed her. Ophelia also got a better look at the wound, and the sight made her recoil somewhat. "Please don't lie to us."

"Hrng. It's… it's fine." Caeldori muttered through gritted teeth. She tried to keep her composure, but her annoyance was clear to Ophelia. "I don't need your concern."

"Please don't do this! I don't want you to be hurt. Talk to Henry! If it's not healed properly than just ask him to help you again. I'm sure he won't mind."

"I don't need any help. Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine!"

"Caeldy, I'm worried about you." Ophelia almost reached up and placed her hand on her friend's shoulder, but Caeldori's now very bitter glare made her rethink this. "I know you've got to be in a lot of pain."

"The leg is nothing!"

"I meant from… from Cordelia's death." Ophelia forced herself to place her hand on Caeldori's shoulder this time, and her intense stare softened. "When I found out the Grimleal took away my mother, that I'd probably never see her again, I was devastated. I was alone. I hadn't met Tiki or Soleil or you yet, and I had no one to turn to. I was also only eleven years old. It… it was horrible. Cordelia raised you, so you basically lost your mother when she died. I know what you're going through." Caeldori couldn't meet Ophelia's eyes anymore, and she hung her head as the words got to her. Ophelia gave a warm smile. "But you're not alone like I was. You can turn to us, and you don't have to hide any weakness. It wouldn't make you a burden." Ophelia was silent until Caeldori finally looked back to her. "Now does your leg still hurt? Do you still need help?"

Caeldori nodded sheepishly. "But you don't understand. There's still shrapnel in my leg. Henry's healing just made the skin grow around it, and he can't remove it. I'd need a surgeon, so it does make me a burden. There's nothing you can do now, but I can make sure I'm not slowing the group down."

"Oh…"

"Thank you for caring, Phelia, but you can't do anything for me. I am a burden right now, and it's my responsibility to minimize that."

"I see."

Caeldori sat down again, grunting as she did. She let out a sigh of relief as her leg finally stopped supporting her weight, and it looked like she had no intention of getting up again anytime soon. Ophelia just stood there looking at her for some time. She had nothing else to add, but it didn't feel right to leave her alone again. Caeldori eventually decided to keep talking, if only to break the silence. "Ophelia?"

"Yes?"

"Do you and Soleil… really look up to me? Or were you just saying that."

"Of course we do." Ophelia sat by her friend. The dusty surface of the badlands didn't make for a comfortable place to sit, and Ophelia realized just how much pain Caeldori must have been enduring to want to stay sitting. "You're more of a soldier than the two of us, and you're more of a leader. I wish I had some of your strength, discipline, and courage."

"Does… Soleil really think that?"

"Well she'd never say that, but I think she does. Why… why do you two fight so much?"

"I don't set out to antagonize her, Phelia. She just never listens. She's a slacker and a goof off, and she just seems to want to fight sometimes."

"There are two sides to every story, Caeldy."

"Maybe, but she spends more time flirting and dancing than she does training. We're at war, Ophelia. We'd stand no chance against the Grimleal if we were all like her. There's no denying that."

"Well… I'm sorry you two don't get along. I think she does want to be closer to you though."

"Could've fooled me."

Ophelia stood up. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't think so."

"I could talk to Henry. Maybe he could help you with the pain?"

"I doubt it. Dark magic is about aggressively altering human physiology and psychology, and that man was trained by the Plegian military to be an instrument of death. Even his healing causes pain. I doubt he could help me. Tell him I appreciate the effort, but I'd need a surgeon."

"I don't think that's fair, Caeldori."

"Isn't it? Dark mages are feared for a reason, and Plegia wasn't known for its peaceful policies. Holy magic is known for healing, but Plegian dark mages? Not so much." Caeldori looked up to Ophelia. "If I were you, I'd focus on the holy magic. It won't turn you into a monster."

"That's not fair. Holy magic is not inherently good, and dark magic is not inherently evil."

"Maybe. I concede that I know less about this than you do. That being said, Plegia was known for cultivating brutal dark mages that found new and destructive ways of waging war. Ylisse, the other side of your ancestry, was known for devotion to a connection to Naga herself, and holy magic is known for healing and vanquishing threats to humanity. Just saying."

This time Ophelia had nothing else to add, so she walked away. She found her grandfather studying some of the dead mushroom stalks. "G-grandfather?" Ophelia still found herself afraid of Henry, but his seemingly genuine smile warmed her somewhat. It was hard to shake those first impressions, but Ophelia was slowly realizing how much Henry did want to be around her.

"Hey-o, Ophelio. I saw you talking to Cordelia II. Is her leg holding up?"

"Well not exactly. Caeldori says there are pieces of shrapnel under the skin, and your healing just made the skin grow around it. She says she needs a surgeon. I don't suppose you could help?"

"Hmm. Not really. Not unless I use a total leg removal spell, nya ha ha!"

"That's not funny!"

"Sure it is."

Ophelia shook her head and reminded herself that Henry probably didn't mean anything personal against Caeldori. "Do you at least know a spell that could help her with the pain? She won't admit it, but I don't think she can walk very well."

Henry thought deeply about it. "Well there is this one curse. It can kill someone quickly and painlessly. Just like that! Easier than falling asleep. See someone mortally wounded on the battlefield? Pchew! Dead. No pain. Personally I like watching people bleed out, but some people aren't into that."

"What?! I don't want her to die painlessly! I want her to live painlessly!"

"Hmm. We could try burning her alive. It'll hurt at first, but eventually her nerve endings will burn off. Then we just extinguish her and just like that she won't feel pain anymore."

Ophelia sighed. "I guess that's technically what I asked for, but we can't do that. Thanks anyways."

Henry shrugged as Ophelia walked away. She didn't think anyone else could provide assistance, but she decided to try asking Gaius. She didn't expect him to be able to do anything for Caeldori, but if there was the slightest possibility of helping her, she had to take it. To Ophelia's surprise, Gaius actually thought about what she told him. As it turned out, he was capable of helping to some degree.

"When I was a younger man, I ran with a small group of thieves. They taught me a few things, including how to treat some battlefield injuries. I might be able to treat her leg."

"So you're a surgeon?"

"Well… not really, but how hard could it be?"

Ophelia scowled. "That's not reassuring."

"Let me put it this way. The hardest part of being a surgeon isn't the cutting. Anyone can just cut something out right? The hardest part is making sure the patient survives and recovers. Thing is, we have Henry's dark healing. I can't promise I won't cut her up pretty bad, but it won't matter. Henry can just heal all her injuries when I'm done. If I just get the shrapnel out first, it won't matter how much of a mess I make. Henry will heal everything. It'll be sloppy. I'm not a trained surgeon. If I just remove the shrapnel though, that should keep her fine until we can find a real surgeon."

"So… you won't hurt her?"

"Err, Henry will be able to heal anything I do to her. Thing is, I will be hurting her during the surgery. A lot. I mean you and Shrill will probably have to restrain her."

"What? Why?!"

"We don't exactly have any anesthetic, Blondie."

"You'll cut into her leg with her awake for it and everything?!"

"What choice do we have? As soon as I get all the shrapnel out, Henry will heal her leg. Until then, it'll be pretty painful and bloody."

Ophelia thought about it. She knew Caeldori would agree to it, but only because she was so terrified of being a burden on the group. Only because of her pride. She wouldn't think of how dangerous it could be. Ophelia didn't want to risk anything serious happening to Caeldori, and she didn't want to put her through that pain. To protect her, she needed to choose for her. "I'm sorry, Gaius. It's not that I don't trust you. I just don't think that's safe."

"That's fine. I'm not sure I would do it if I were her."

"Is there anything you can do for her pain now?"

"Well…" Gaius pulled out a bottle from his clothing. "I have this."

Ophelia took it to see that it was a bottle of whiskey. "Where did you get this?!"

"I took it off the Arch Surg back in the fort."

"Huh?! When could you have done that?"

"I have a knack for taking things under people's noses. I'm always on the lookout for interesting things to, uh… borrow. I don't usually like alcohol though. When I do drink, it's usually just sweeter stuff."

"Then why did you take this?"

"It's strong. I was saving it for when I really wanted to be out of it. That's why I think Caeldori could use some."

"You want me to get her inebriated?!"

"If the shrapnel won't come out, then at least she won't have to feel it as much."

"That doesn't sound right."

"It's this or we treat her injury. Otherwise she just has to tough it out, and that's assuming it doesn't get worse. She's uh… she's already missing a hand, Blondie. What if it gets worse."

"Alcohol won't fix that."

"But at least she won't feel worse." Gaius pulled out a second bottle. "Better take some more."

Ophelia took both bottles. She removed the lid from one and took a short whiff. The potency was immediately apparent to her. "Well… it's better than the alternative."

"We'll find a doctor for her, Blondie. I promise we won't leave her."

"Chrom too?"

"If he doesn't wake up, we might have to."

* * *

Hours passed, but still Chrom refused to wake up. Eventually the sun began to set, and the temperature began to fall. The group was at the border between Plegia and southwestern Ferox now, and the autumn nights could be surprisingly cold. It was much more merciful than winter, but the wind chill across the open badlands was still brutal to endure. Gaius, Henry, and Ophelia stayed by Chrom, but Soleil eventually began to wander around. Ophelia grew worried and eventually chased after her, but she too became interested in exploring after catching up to her old friend. Eventually Soleil gathered dried husks of the mushrooms Henry had killed, and she moved it all under a particularly tall mushroom stalk to get some shelter from the winds. Ophelia used a fire tome she'd taken from the fort's armory to light it. The fungal material successfully sustained a blaze, and the two women were able to enjoy a brief moment of peace from the cold by a warm fire. As difficult as the past few days had been for everyone, Ophelia and Soleil were able to forget about it all, if just for a moment.

"Oh that's nice." Soleil said, almost moaned, as she sprawled out by the open flame. "I can't believe it got so cold all of the sudden! Brrr!"

"You're cold? Look at me! I'm in sandals and a mage outfit over here. Besides, aren't you a quarter Feroxi? I thought you would be used to the cold."

"I don't see how that means anything. I grew up in Ylisse." Soleil did seem to consider Ophelia's words. "Chrom says my grandmother was a great dancer and singer. Why am I so lousy with my dancing and singing?"

"Keep practicing, Soleil. You'll get there."

"I don't really have much time to practice. Not to mention little miss perfect always gets angry with me if I don't spend all my free time training. It's exactly what Cordelia used to do."

Ophelia looked down and felt a sudden chill run through her. She inched closer to the fire, but the feeling didn't go away. "I'll miss her, Soleil. A lot."

Soleil sighed, and her smile almost faded entirely. "Yeah… me too. She did a lot for us. Gave us a place to stay. Trained us. Believed in us." Soleil looked contemplatively at the roaring fire. "She could be a very strict teacher. Always riding me for something or another. 'Soleil! Stop your dancing! Stop your singing! Leave the village girls alone! Stop trying to ride my Pegasus!' I remember wanting nothing more than to just leave sometimes. Now I got my wish. Now I'll never have to deal with that again… only to find myself wishing I'd taken her training more seriously."

"She was proud of us, Soleil. I know she was."

"Still. I should have done more for her." Soleil relaxed and tried her best to be comfortable on the barren surface of the badlands. "Of course, that doesn't mean she wasn't being unfair sometimes. Remember when we first met her? It was a pretty sweet set up. We had her nice big house to live in. Training only took up part of the day. Sometimes we could go down to the nearby town. Tour the markets. See a show of some kind. Mmm. Chat up the girls."

Ophelia shook her head. "Was that really necessary?"

"Don't hate just because you were too shy to get any action."

"Did you get any 'action', or were you just being turned down?"

"I certainly had to cast a wide net, but I caught a few." Soleil blushed and seemed to stare off into space. "Some of those farm girls were anything but dull."

"Alright. I get the picture."

"But Cordelia changed over the years. She got a lot more strict, especially with me. She made us train more and more, and eventually she stopped letting us visit the town."

"Gee, I wonder why."

Soleil sat up. "Woah, hey! It had nothing to do with me. Those fine maidens loved it when I paid them visits. Besides I needed the outlet. It was hard being cramped up in that homestead with no new women to talk to. Hell… I might have looked at Cordelia differently… once or twice."

"W-what?!"

"I was lonely. She… she wasn't bad for her age. I-I don't know. I might have… said some things."

"You hit on Cordelia?!"

"Woah! Let me set the context. I didn't expect anything to, like, happen. I just wanted to practice the material."

"She was our mentor!"

"There was a time where she argued with me almost daily. I figured it couldn't get any more awkward."

"She's years older than us!"

"I don't know. I like older women. They're… experienced. Plus they've always got stories to tell."

"Soleil, please _don't_ continue."

"Well like I was saying, it wasn't my fault." Soleil glanced around before speaking again. "It was probably her granddaughter's fault."

"Caeldori? How?!"

"Do you remember when we first met Caeldori?"

"It was when we met Cordelia."

"Not quite. It was about a month afterwards. Caeldori was away when we first came to the homestead."

"Oh yeah!"

"Do you know why?"

"Was she traveling somewhere?"

"Cordelia didn't actually train her all by herself. There was a time where she would send her to learn from other tutors and instructors. I think she became worried that the Grimleal would learn about us if she continued. That's why she didn't find any for us." Soleil leaned towards Ophelia. "But that's not the only reason why she stopped sending Caeldori to them."

"W-what?"

Soleil grinned. "Caeldori kept making passes at the male ones! Little miss pole up her butt was hitting on her teachers! C-can you believe that?!"

"Y-you're kidding!"

"I'm serious. I remember overhearing an argument Cordelia had with Caeldori. She was not happy. Cordelia and I used to snap at each other, but she was yelling at Caeldori. She was furious on how irresponsible she had been. You know, the words she usually threw at me. Caeldori made these men so uncomfortable that they couldn't maintain the teacher student relationship. This happened more than once too. She did this constantly."

"Caeldy?!"

"Some of these men were much older than her. It's like she had a thing for instructors. Cordelia worked to get her the best possible military training and she turns into a schoolgirl about it! Ha! Miss stuck up! Not so stoic after all huh? Anyways, it was Caeldori that probably ruined the town trips for us. That or Cordelia became afraid that the Grimleal were slowly starting to track her down, but that one is less funny."

"Wha… I…" Ophelia just shook her head as her face scrunched up. "I can't say I can picture Caeldori chasing after anyone. Her teachers? Really?!"

"I'm not sure she's ever been with a boy, and I've never seen her pursue one. I think she's not interested in ones her age. In fact, I think she's got a thing for men with authority over her. Men out of her social standing. It's like she wants men that, deep down, she knows she can't really have. Sort of like a more extreme version of what old grandma had for the prince huh?"

Ophelia glanced at something behind Soleil. "Uhh…"

"Except Cordelia got Chrom in the end now didn't she? Caeldori doesn't know what she wants."

"Soleil…"

"She says I'm a pervert, but at least I chase after people I can get."

"Soleil, turn around."

Soleil slowly realized what Ophelia was looking up at, and she turned to see Caeldori's glare bearing down on her. Though she had soft and conventionally feminine features, Caeldori could give a menacing look when she wanted to. Something also seemed off about her. She swayed back and forth as she stood, and her gaze wasn't completely fixed on any one object at a time. "Oh hey, Caeldori! Good to see you up and around." Soleil nervously rose to her feet. "Is your leg doing better?" Soleil smiled, but also awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. Caeldori continued to shoot daggers at Soleil, and her smile became more sheepish. "You uh, overheard me huh?"

"Yes I did. I _really appreciate_ your attempt to psychoanalyze me, Soleil, but my love life is none of your concern. Now what are you two doing?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"What are you doing?" Caeldori's voice was very bitter, and she slurred her words. Soleil became uneasy as she realized something was wrong with her.

"W-we're just warming up by a fire."

Ophelia stood up and tried to smile, though she also realized that something was off. "Do you want to join us?"

"Don't you think this is a waste of time?"

"No? It's very cold out. Aren't you cold?"

"No." Caeldori took a few steps towards the fire, and she stumbled somewhat as she walked. "You two should be training! Our encounters with the Arch Surg have shown that we still have a long way to go. Put out that fire. We have work to do."

"W-what?! No way!" Soleil dashed in front of Caeldori. "It's almost night time, and we're cold!"

"I saw you fight at the fort, Soleil. You would have died without me there to cover you. You need to train."

"We can do it tomorrow."

"Oh can we now? Oh please, Soleil. Tell me when we should be doing things. You know so much more than me." Caeldori stepped closer to Soleil this time. "My grandmother was a Pegasus Knight. Tell me again. What was your grandmother? A dancer?"

"Caeldori, that's hardly fair."

"Do you have a problem with me, peasant? Come on." Caeldori put her face to Soleil's, and she realized what was happening as the unsubtle stench of alcohol in Caeldori's breath hit her. "Try something. You always want to fight, so try something. I dare you."

"Caeldori… this isn't you."

"And how do you know me? Huh? How do you know what I am and am not like?!"

Ophelia slowly stepped forward and tried to look as friendly as she could. "Hey, come on now. We're all friends here. How is your leg doing, Caeldy?"

"My leg is not a problem!" Caeldori turned towards the fire. "I want to think that, Ophelia. Really I do! I want to think of you two as friends, but you never take me seriously! You two listen to me, and you listen good. You've got no one left! No one!"

"Huh?!"

"You heard me! Cordelia is gone! GONE! So is Tiki! Chrom may be helping us, but we all know he's not the man we need him to be. We don't have anyone to guide us, so I'm doing what my grandmother wanted me to do. I'm leading us now, and things are going to change. No more slacking off. No more wasting time! I'm going to make you two into soldiers. Now put out that fire!" Caeldori tried kicking sand into the blaze, but Soleil liked it too much to let that happen. She moved to block Caeldori, and she drunkenly fumbled forward. Her uninjured leg was unintentionally thrusted into the fire in a desperate attempt to keep her balance. Caeldori reeled forward in pain and accidentally smashed into the mushroom stalk the girls had taken cover under. As if reacting to her presence, the Imperial Creeper stalk promptly released a cloud of spores. Ophelia and Soleil jumped backwards, but Caeldori got a face full of the material. She fell to her knees and vomited while trying to wipe the yellowish gunk off of her.

"ARGH! Gods above all! Agh! Crock of beans! Suffering sheep dip! Argh, mule muffins! Pickled pigs feet! Mother hugging pimple on a bee's rear!" When Caeldori brought her head up again, her eyes were an irritated, burning red, and her expression was consumed by rage. Ophelia didn't want to speak with her anymore, but Soleil couldn't resist a joke.

"Well, Caeldy. I'd say you gave that mushroom a happy ending!"

Caeldori stumbled forward as quickly as she could and confronted Soleil again. Ophelia glanced down to see that her other leg was now suffering from burn wounds, and part of Caeldori's prosthetic hand caught flame, but she ignored it all. She just brought her anger and frustration choked eyes down on Soleil's and overpowered her ally's cheery demeanor. "Ever ready with a joke, mercenary. If only you were so proficient with your blade, you would actually stand a chance of beating the Grimleal."

"We can smell the booze on your breath. This isn't you. Where did you even get the stuff?!"

Caeldori gave a not at all reassuring smile. "Why don't you ask Ophelia?" Soleil looked over to her in confusion.

"S-she was in a lot of pain from her leg. Gaius said it would help. How much did you drink?! Gaius didn't want you to have that stuff just to act like this! He just wanted to help you with the pain!"

Caeldori shook her head. "But it made me realize something. I was drinking. Choking down the stuff. Then it got easier and easier to drink, and then I realized something. We're not… we're not where we should be. Cordelia wanted us to lead the fight against the Grimleal one day but… what have we done?"

"We found Chrom?"

"And what has he done?! He's not the man Tiki wanted him to be. He can't help us like we wanted him to." Caeldori's expression saddened, but Ophelia and Soleil were still wary of her. "I was supposed to rebuild the Pegasus Knights, but I have no idea how! Where do I find more mounts? The recruits? The weapons and armor? How do I train them? Cordelia wanted me to rebuild the entire order, but I don't know how! More than that, we were supposed to be the start of something. We were going to lead the people into rebelling against the Grimleal. We haven't done anything to inspire any kind of rebellion. What have we even done against the Grimleal? We pushed a man off a cliff, but that's it!"

"You're being very hard on yourself, Caeldy." Ophelia said, though she still didn't want to get any closer to her. "No one ever escaped the Rockpile before us. We showed that they're not invincible."

"But what good did that do?" Caeldori stood up straight, and her anger seemed to return. "You two don't get it. We haven't done anything! That changes now. We're shaping up. We're going to become what Tiki and Cordelia needed us to be. We're going to live up the Shepherds!"

Soleil stopped smiling. "And let me guess. You're going to lead us. Tell us what to do."

"I am the most experienced of us. The most highly trained. Who else, Soleil? You? Huh? You?" Caeldori stepped closer to Soleil again, but she didn't back away this time. Ophelia tensed up at the sight of her friends once again at each other's throats. This time she couldn't rely on Caeldori to act rationally.

"P-please don't do this." She whimpered. Caeldori ignored her.

"Get away from me. You need to just calm down."

Caeldori didn't relent. "Do you have a problem with my leadership, mercenary? Come on. You're always finding something to argue about. Why don't we settle this."

"I don't want to fight you, you damned moron!"

"That's bunk and you know it. You're always arguing with me, Soleil. Let's just finish this. Come on. Make a move." Caeldori shoved Soleil. "Make a move. Give me a reason."

"To do what?!"

"Prove just how weak you are."

"I'm not doing this."

Caeldori started giving Soleil light but repeated nudges. "Come on. You know you want to. Come on. Give me a reason."

Soleil held her temper for a few seconds, and Ophelia tried to get between the two. To her chagrin, Soleil snapped before she could. Soleil tried lunging at Caeldori but, even in her drunken state, she was able to quickly overpower her and throw her to the ground. The sight of this made Ophelia want to start yelling, and she had to take a few seconds to calm herself. Soleil's face turned bright red, and Ophelia moved in front of her and instant before she could shoot up and lunge at Caeldori again. "STOP! Stop it! I'm tired of being the arbiter of these childish skirmishes. Caeldori, please! Just sober up!"

"Oh so you want to lead. Is that it, Ophelia? I bet that royal blood is just boiling right out of your skin at the thought of us commoners not immediately swearing fealty to you."

"What?!"

"You're not the Exalt yet. Chrom's decomposing body is still sitting on the throne, such as it is, and I'm not going to just do what you say! Chrom may have had Cordelia wrapped around his finger, but I'm not going to just mindlessly allow you to lead us!"

"You're being ridiculous. We've been friends a long time now, and we've always been equals!"

"Really now? You and Soleil knew each other for some time before you met me. I've always been the outsider anyways, so I might as well embrace that. I don't need to be your equal! I just need to get you slackers into shape! We need to be better! All three of us! We're not, we're not the heroes we should be!"

Ophelia gave Caeldori a determined stare. "I think you've had enough. Give me the bottles."

Caeldori glared back, but Ophelia didn't relent. After a few seconds of tense silence, Caeldori reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the whiskey bottles, though she didn't pull out the second. She hurled it at Ophelia, who barely caught it. "Fine. Tribute to the Exalt-to-be from the last Pegasus Knight." She turned and walked away into the growing darkness, limping from her wounds and drunkenly stumbling at the same time. "We're all going to die! If you don't take this seriously, we're all going to lose this war! We can't fix the world!"

Ophelia looked at her feet in pained silence, but Soleil yelled after her. "Yeah keep walking! See what happens if you come back here! Gods! I have half a mind to knock you upside the head!"

"Soleil, please stop."

"Why are you defending her actions?! The two of us, right now, we could knock some respect into her. Tie her to a mushroom for the night or something. I don't know."

"Please just leave it alone. For me, Soleil?"

Soleil calmed down and sat back in her original spot. The two sat in silence again, but it was hard to relax as they had before. Soleil was really struggling to let everything that had happened go, and eventually she had to bring it up again. "I just… I don't get her. Sometimes she's nice and affable. She can even be pretty fun. She makes me want to get to know her better. The next moment she's snapping at us. She reminds you that deep down, she looks down on us. Sometimes she makes me wish she'd just leave."

"But you would miss her if she did. Just like with Cordelia."

"Yeah… I would. I'm just so angry with her! What the hell?!"

"She's in a lot of pain, Soleil. She needs time."

"That doesn't excuse her behavior! She didn't act like this after losing her hand, and I wasn't anything like that after taking a knife in the lung."

"No, no. I mean she's still hurting from Cordelia's death. I know it's easy to forget, but that was just the other day. Cordelia has raised her since she was five years old. She was basically her mother. Would you be okay if your mother died right in front of you?"

Soleil thought of her own mother. She was the only one of the three to still have a parent, or at least to know where her parent was. Soleil hadn't seen her mother in years. She was too afraid of the Grimleal learning of her and targeting her. She did write frequently, and she tried to send money when she could. "No. No… I wouldn't."

"She's also alone, Soleil. You have your mother. I have Chrom and Henry. Caeldori only has us. It's sad to see her pushing us away, but she's just angry and afraid of showing weakness. Don't turn on her, Soleil. She needs us. We just need to wait for her to calm down."

Soleil's anger faded as she realized the truth in Ophelia's words. It was natural for her to pick fights with Caeldori, but for once she really tried to see things from her point of view. She tried to see how Caeldori really did want to be closer to her, even if she was just as frustrated by Soleil's actions as her grandmother had once been. "You're right. She… she does need us. I should try to connect with her… painful as that can be."

Ophelia smiled, her sadness finally leaving her. "Thank you. Promise me you won't go attack her in her sleep or anything?"

"I promise. Oh gods. Can I borrow a piece of paper, Ophelia? And something to write with?"

"Sure. Why?"

"I want to write to my mom again."

Meanwhile, Caeldori sat herself in the sand. She had wandered some distance from the rest of the group. Her other leg was now suffering from moderate burn wounds, and she had no shelter from the winds, but she didn't care. She just sat staring at her other whiskey bottle, crying to herself. She slowly raised it in the air and gave a sad smile. "Well here's to you, grandmother. You're in a better place now. Better than the hell your generation left us." Caeldori took a sip and looked back down. "I'm sorry I snapped at them. They're just too weak! _I'm_ too weak! I'm so sorry. I'm not the woman you needed me to be. I'm just not perfect like you."

* * *

Chrom woke up to find himself in an empty, grassy field. He wasn't an adult anymore. He was a boy no more than four years old. He felt scared and alone, but he lit up as he turned to see the familiar faces of his mother and father. His older self couldn't even consciously remember his parent's faces, but he recognized them now. His father was wearing his gold and blue armor, and had the Falchion by his side. His mother had long blonde hair and soft blue eyes. She wore an elaborate blue and gold dress. The two smiled down at their son as he ran up to them. Chrom wrapped his arms tightly around his mother's leg, and his father ran his fingers through his son's hair.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Chrom shouted in glee as he tightened his grip on his mother's leg. She gently dislodged him before kneeling down to hug him. Chrom closed his eyes and smiled, but when he opened them again he found the Falchion being held in front of him. Chrom's father laid the sword down on the ground. Chrom tried to lift it, but it was too heavy for him to even budge. His father chuckled.

"Don't worry, boy. You will be strong enough to lift it one day. You will grow to protect Ylisse."

"I will, daddy! I promise."

"I know you will. Goodbye, son. Make us proud."

"W-what?" Chrom looked worried. "You're leaving me?!"

"Yes. You'll have to be without us from now on."

Chrom's mother smiled down at him as she stood up. "But we'll always love you."

"You are descended from great heroes, boy. You must protect this land as they did."

Chrom's mother and father vanished, but the Falchion remained. Chrom stood up straight and struck his idea of a heroic pose. "I will!" Chrom quickly became scared again. He was once more alone in the field, and he was afraid to wander away from the Falchion. Eventually he heard footsteps coming from behind him, and he turned to see a group of brigands. "S-stop there!" He stuttered. "What are you doing here?"

The lead brigand looked at Chrom and gave a menacing smile. "We're here to rape and kill and plunder. Not necessarily in that order. In any order we feel like really."

"Huh?! Why?! How could you?!"

"It's fun." The man noticed the Falchion. "I know who you are. You're Prince Chrom. You think you can stop us?"

"I-I…" Chrom was terrified, but he remembered his father's words. "I won't let you do that!"

"Ha! Oh this will be fun." The brigand walked forward and mercilessly kicked Chrom in the face, shattering his nose. He was knocked to his back crying and screaming, but the far larger man gave him no pity or remorse. He readied a downward strike from his axe, and the young Chrom was forced to run for his life. He sprinted forwards, blood pouring from his nose, until he bumped into another man. He turned around and pointed a Levin Sword at Chrom, and the young boy looked up to see Gangrel when he was King of Plegia.

"So this is Prince Chrom. You think you can stop me? I will ensure Plegian domination of this entire continent, and someday all the world will bow before Gangrel!" Gangrel swung at Chrom. He ducked under it, but some of the electricity arced into his body and burned him. He ran away yet again to once more bump into someone. This time he looked up to see Aversa and Validar.

"Aw. Look at the sweet little boy. Are you lost, love?" Aversa stepped back and Validar prepared an attack with dark magic.

"Grima's rise is inevitable, Chrom. You cannot stop it." Chrom immediately fled, but Validar attacked anyways. The blast struck Chrom in the back and severely injured him. It was like getting struck by a moving carriage, except that the blast was unbearably hot. Chrom couldn't muster the strength to get back up again at first. He could do nothing but cry into the apathetic dirt.

"Mommy! Daddy! _Please_ come back. I _need_ you!"

Chrom eventually tried to get back up, but an armored boot smashed him in the back of the head. Walhart, surrounded by Excellus, Cervantes, Pheros, Farber, Yen'fay, and Dalton, looked down. He apparently wasn't even aware Chrom had been there until just then. "Mewling worm! Get out of my way! Those who stand in the way of my unification of humanity will be swept aside!" Walhart did just that. He grabbed Chrom and threw him to the side. When Chrom could finally rise to his feet again, he saw Courtney looking down on him.

"Ha! There you are, dipwad!" Courtney grabbed Chrom as he tried to run and jammed his blade through Chrom's arm. His laughing almost drowned out Chrom's screaming. "Doesn't feel so good does it?! Men like me do what we want with the world now. You can't stop it!"

Courtney pulled his blade out slowly, inflicting such a severe wound that Chrom's arm almost came off entirely. He barely managed to limp a few steps away before a long glaive impaled him. Altman withdrew his weapon and watched the four year old in front of him slowly bleed to death. "You're a relic of an ancient regime. There's no place for you in our new world."

Chrom couldn't even move at this point. Blood welled up in his throat and he struggled to even breathe. He was sure he was going to die, and he was surprised that he was alive at all. After all he had suffered, it still wasn't over. Keith walked up from behind him and drew his double barreled flintlock pistol. He coldly put two bullets into Chrom's knees, his stern expression completely unchanged by the resulting screaming. "How could Lucina's father be so weak? You're nothing compared to her! You shame her! I will finish what she started. I will save this world. You're nothing!"

Chrom just wanted to die at this point. He wanted to fall asleep, knowing that he would never wake up again. Never have to feel this kind of pain again. He wouldn't die though. Minutes passed, and the pain only grew more agonizing, but he wouldn't die. He finally realized that waiting for death wouldn't work. For whatever reason it just wouldn't work. He had to fight his way out of this. He glanced up to see that the Falchion had somehow moved to be right in front of him. He forced himself to crawl for it. Every centimeter was mind crushingly painful, but he kept going. "You… you…" Chrom finally reached the Falchion. The moment he touched it, he was no longer a child. He morphed into a young man, wearing the attire he had worn thirty years ago, and his injuries disappeared. He threw himself to his feet as his foes gathered around him. "You won't win!" Chrom first ran at the brigands and cut them down. "I won't let you harm the people of Ylisse!" As soon as the last one fell, he felt a burning pain in his back. This time he easily resisted it, and he turned to see Gangrel with his Levin Sword raised. "If you'll fight for Plegia, then you'll die for Plegia!" He slashed Gangrel across the abdomen before he could move, and he then sprinted towards Aversa and Validar. The leader of the Grimleal fired a blast of dark magic at him, but he deflected it with the Falchion and sent it towards Aversa. It hit her with enough force to tear her head from her shoulders, and Validar was left shocked long enough for Chrom to charge at him. "Anything can change!" He quickly felled Validar, and he turned to see Walhart's followers loyally running at him for their master. One by one he brought them all down. Walhart himself tried to engage, but Chrom slashed through his armor before he could even bring his axe down. "Your dream of empire ends here!" Chrom quickly turned to block an attack from Courtney, and he forced his blade out of his hands. "You're just a thug, and I'll put you in your place." Chrom viciously slashed off Courtney's prosthetics before decapitating him. He then raised his Falchion to block a blast of dark magic from Altman. "You'll pay for what you've done to the world!" Chrom sliced Altman's glaive in half and then cut down the hapless Inquisitor. He finally allowed himself a bit of rest, but it only lasted seconds before he had to raise his sword to block one final attack. Keith launched a furious attack at him, but Chrom knocked him to the ground and kicked his sword away. "You're nothing like my daughter! You think yourself a hero, but you're just a monster!" He willed the Thundergrypp into inexplicably materializing in his hand and shot Keith twice in the head. Chrom quickly looked around, but the long battle was finally over. He briefly turned when he heard something behind him, but it was no enemy. This time Chrom saw his father again. He smiled at his son, but it wasn't a warm smile like before. It was stern and dismissive, and he slowly clapped in a mocking manner.

"Congratulations, boy. You've defeated your foes and overcame your obstacles, and you saved the people of Ylisse. Oh wait. No you didn't."

"Father?"

"You were supposed to have strength to protect Ylisse, not for its own sake! There's no denying that you've become very powerful, but you failed your duty! A thousand years of our family protecting this land came to an end under you. You failed all your ancestors! I knew you would be too weak, boy. I just knew it. You're nothing."

Chrom's battle fury was replaced by a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't look his father in the eye anymore. "I-I'm sorry."

Chrom's father stepped forward. His anger was gone, but he wasn't being reassuring either. "But… you're all Ylisse has now. You and my great-granddaughter. Maybe you can still change things. Maybe it's not over."

"You still think I can help the world?"

"You have to try. Remember, Ylisse lies before us, Ylisse marches within us, and Ylisse follows us. You have to fight for our people. No matter what it takes."

"Wait!" Chrom looked around. "Where is mother?"

"She's dead. She's long dead."

"But… so are you."

"Yes… and no. It's more complicated than that, boy." Chrom's father began to walk away. "We'll see each other again soon. Real soon."

Chrom suddenly jerked awake, this time for real, to find Gaius shaking him. "Come on, Chrom! Wake up!"

"Huh? What?" Chrom slowly sat up. There was discomfort in his lower abdomen, but the pain had mostly subsided. Gaius smiled down at him.

"I was starting to worry about you. Glad to see you up again."

Chrom did feel a stinging sensation on his arm that hadn't been there before. He turned to see it covered in singe marks, and the ground beside him was scorched. "Wha? What happened here?!"

"Oh that. It was getting colder, so Henry said he could use magic to make a fire for us. Damn thing exploded in a fireball when he tried to prevent it from burning out. We should have used Blondie and Shrill's fire. They made theirs the normal way." Gaius turned to Henry, who was standing a few meters away. "And theirs didn't blow up in their faces!"

"I said I was sorry! It's not that big a deal anyways."

"You almost burned Chrom!"

"He's fine."

Gaius sighed and helped Chrom to his feet. "Anyways, we were afraid you were getting cold. We had you pretty close to the fire. Sorry about that."

"How long was I out?"

"Hours. It's almost night."

"I-I'm sorry."

"It's not all bad, Chrom." Gaius gave him a strange look, as if he were deep in thought and enveloped by strong emotions at the same time. "A passing traveler saw the inferno and came over to help. He thought we were in trouble. We've talked to him, and he's offered us a place to stay for the night. We don't exactly have anywhere else to go right now."

"I don't know. I'm not sure we should be trusting strangers."

Gaius gave a soft smile, but he also seemed worried about how Chrom would react. "That's the thing. He's not a stranger."

"You know him?"

"Yes. So does Henry. So do you."

"W-what?"

Gaius took a few steps back, and Chrom heard a familiar voice. He couldn't initially place it, but he knew he'd heard it before. The voice itself was shaky and choking back emotion. "So it's true. You really are still alive. When I first came across you fellers, Gaius and Henry said you'd might not make it. I reckoned you would pull through though. You're stronger than that, Chrom."

Chrom turned to see the man. He was a local with ragged clothes and dark violet hair. The sight of him sent a now very familiar feeling of guilt flooding through Chrom's body. Gaius stepped forward. "He introduced himself as Isaiah, but that's not who he used to be. He took a new name. A lot like you did actually. Before he was… well you should have figured it out by now."

Chrom nodded and gave a sorrowful expression as he once more had to face someone he had failed. "Donnel."


	28. The Once and Future Shepherds

The homestead Isaiah and his family lived on wasn't much, though it was a bit more than the average person in the area had. Isaiah's home was notably made from wood. It had been constructed just years after Grima's rise in a unique time when lumber was plentiful and cheap. With trees dying left and right, lumberjacks weren't even needed to cut them down. As these trees decomposed and the remaining wood was infested with fungal growth however, lumber became a rarity. In modern times wood could only be imported at great expense from the few fertile areas left, and the Grimleal carefully monitored their exports. Isaiah's home was worth much more nowadays than it was when built, but he still wouldn't have enough money to live anywhere better in the countryside if he sold it. It could easily have afforded him a life in a city, but Isaiah didn't want to give up on farming. If he did, it'd be like giving up on his old life completely. Besides his home, Isaiah owned a mule and a small barn for it. He had a well for gathering underground water, and at an intentionally significant distance away was an outhouse. The rest of Isaiah's property was just barren rock, with a small amount of sand and shale having blown in from the nearby badlands over time. Mushrooms would grow every once in awhile, but Isaiah had recently picked most of them.

It was now fairly late at night, and Isaiah's family sat on the porch, waiting for him to return. Matilda was very concerned about how long her husband had been away, but she didn't show it. She just smiled at Sarah to reassure her and rocked her back and forth. "When's daddy coming home?"

"For the fourth or fifth time, darlin', I don't know."

Beside Matilda was her and Isaiah's oldest child, a fourteen year old boy named Paul. His hair was the opposite of his sister's. He had his mother's hair color with the color intensity of his father's, giving him dark blonde hair to contrast with Sarah's radiant violet hair. He leaned against a beam on the porch and yawned. "Come on, Ma. It's late. Can't we just go to bed? He'll be there in the morning."

"I raised you better than that Paul. Your father will need help unloading when he gets back from The Saltworks."

"It's not that I don't want to help him! Gawds! It's just that it's late."

"We're waiting for him."

"If he needs help unloading so bad, he can get here on time."

"I'm sure he has a good reason, Paul."

Sarah gave her mother a concerned look. "And he's okay right?"

"I'm sure he is, Sarah. I'm sure he is."

Matilda was beginning to worry herself. She kept a straight face for Sarah's sake, but a growing fear inside of her wasn't extinguished until she finally saw her husband's carriage on the horizon. She nudged Paul and Sarah to make sure they were awake, and then happily stepped out to greet Isaiah as his carriage finally made its way back home. Isaiah let go of the reigns and stroked his mule along its neck. "Good, girl. I know you hate making that trip, but you did good by us."

Isaiah turned back just in time to receive a hug from his wife. It was followed by an even tighter hug from his younger daughter. "Daddy! You're back!"

"Oof. Yeah, I'm back. Now let go before ya squeeze yer Pa in half!"

Sarah jumped up and down. "What'd ya bring me?! Huh, huh?! You got me a present right?"

"Sure did! Food and supplies."

"Nooo! That doesn't count! That's normal stuff! I mean a present!"

Isaiah fumbled around his pockets. "Nope sorry. Nothing on me."

"Please, Daddy!"

"I got nothing for you!"

"Please!"

"Well… maybe I forgot something. Maybe I…" Isaiah quickly retrieved something from his back pocket and pretended to then pull it out of his ear. "Maybe I forgot to check behind my ears! Woah! Look at that!" Isaiah handed Sarah a small carved figurine depicting a Grimleal 2nd Army soldier. Sarah had a small collection of carved figurines and dolls from The Saltworks. It was about all Isaiah could afford to give her.

"Thank you, Daddy! Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you! I'm going to name him Squishy! He'll be my Squishy and I'll love him!"

"That's not a dolly, Sarah. It's a wooden figure."

"Oh let her have fun with her toys." Matilda responded as Sarah ran off. Isaiah shrugged.

"Just worried she'll poke herself is all."

Isaiah turned to see Paul approaching. He smiled at his son, but he just received a scowl in turn. "Where in all the hells you been, Pa?! We've been waiting for you!"

"Sorry."

"Paul is right, though I'd wish he'd be more respectful with his father." Matilda said, turning to Paul as she finished the sentence. "What kept you? We were worried."

"I uh… well…"

"Something did happen?"

"This is going to sound strange, Matilda, but… we have company for the night… and maybe the next few days."

"Huh?!"

Isaiah walked behind his carriage, Matilda in tow, and opened up the back. Crammed in with the crates of supplies were Chrom, Gaius, Henry, and the girls. Matilda further looked back to see Minerva and Aurora landing behind the carriage; the two having flown after it. Caeldori had passed out from pain or booze or both, and Gaius had been prying open Isaiah's boxes. Isaiah shot him a nasty glare, and Chrom shook his head. "I told you he'd mind, Gaius."

"I thought I'd find some candy. I'll pay you for it, Donnel!"

"Can't you go a few days without sweets?" Chrom growled.

"I have low blood sugar!"

"I'm surprised your blood hasn't turned to syrup by now!"

Matilda took a few steps back, though she froze after remembering there was a wyvern behind her. "Isaiah… who are these people?!"

"Matilda, these are… old friends. From… from my days in the Shepherds."

Matilda's eyes widened, and Chrom noticed. "The Shepherds?"

"Matilda, these _are_ Shepherds."

Matilda apparently knew exactly what Isaiah was referring to, as she stared incredulously at the group. "You told me they was all killed."

"I thought that too. That's why we have to take 'em in. I thought they were gone, Matilda. To see them again after all these years? We have to do something for them."

"They need a place to stay then? We don't have room for six people, Isaiah!"

"We have to do something."

Matilda was clearly upset by everything that was suddenly forced on her, but she smiled through it all and turned to Chrom. "Well uh, pardon me. We haven't really been introduced. Paul! Sarah! Get back here!" Matilda stepped back as her children joined her. Chrom and the rest of the group stepped off the carriage and dusted themselves off, though Caeldori was too out of it to be moved. She just snorted and twitched in her sleep, and even Ophelia's poking didn't wake her. "My name's Matilda. I'm Isaiah's wife. This here is our eldest child, Paul."

Matilda nudged Paul, and he stepped forward and extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Chrom shook his hand. For a moment, an instant, he saw Kjelle's face in Paul's. He unintentionally recoiled his hand. "Uhh… good to meet you."

"Okay?"

Matilda urged Sarah to step forward. "And this is our youngest child, Sarah."

"So you're a Shepherd?" Sarah asked as she fiddled with her new toy. "Daddy says there aren't any more sheep."

"That's not what that word means in this context."

"Huh?!"

"I'll tell you later." Chrom nodded towards Matilda. "My name is Chrom. The men here are Gaius and Henry. Behind me are Ophelia and Soleil. The… uh… sleeping one is Caeldori." Matilda didn't say anything else at first. She just stared at Chrom. "Is something wrong?"

"Chrom?! T-the Exalt?! The leader of the Shepherds?!"

"Uh… yeah." Though Chrom had long feared he would find himself hunted by the Grimleal because of his identity, it'd been a long time since someone he hadn't known had really recognized him or knew of him.

"I can't believe it. I can't… I can't believe it!" Matilda looked back and forth between Chrom and Isaiah. "I remember what Ylisse used to be like. Before that dragon rose from the ground and brought a shadow of death to our sky. I heard about you, Chrom. I heard about the Shepherds. I never imagine I'd ever meet you!" Matilda looked him up and down. "Though you're not exactly royalty anymore. The world's changed huh?"

"Yes. Yes it has."

"I was already surprised when Isaiah told me about his past. Never thought I'd see anymore of you people!"

"You… told her about your past, 'Isaiah'?" Gaius asked.

"I did."

"All of it? What happened to us?"

"Not… not all of it."

"Gaius!" Ophelia snapped as she elbowed him.

Matilda could tell something awkward was being discussed, and she cleared her throat. "So you uh, y'all need a place to stay tonight?"

Chrom looked over to Isaiah's home. It didn't look like it could fit very many more people. "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense. It's the least I can do for the Exalt! 'Course, we don't have a lot of room."

"The kids can give up their beds?" Isaiah stated. Matilda responded by vigorously shaking her head. She nudged her husband a few meters away so as to not have the conversation right in front of the group.

"No, no! The kids aren't moving."

"Matilda! It's the polite thing to do."

"The polite thing to do would be giving me advance warning before bringing back six guests! We don't have much room for them, and we can't ask the kids to give up their beds for unannounced guests like that. Especially if they're going to be here a few days."

"Alright. I'll uh… I'll break the news."

"They should be happy to have anywhere to stay!"

Isaiah returned to Chrom and gave him a sheepish look. "So uh… we don't have many beds. We have Matilda and I, the kid's beds, and the one my Ma is in."

Gaius and Chrom looked at each other at the last part of Isaiah's statement. "Huh?! Your Ma?!"

"Yeah. She's bedridden. Can't ask her to give up her bed. We literally can't, heh."

"Your mother is still alive, Donnel?!" Gaius exclaimed. "She's got to be ancient!"

"She's a strong woman. Confined to bed anymore, but she's hanging in there."

"You're kidding me?!"

"You might not think such a long life as impossible if you'd eat better, Gaius. She took care of me, so I take care of her. What else are children for? Anyways, we only have one guest bedroom. Two more of you can probably sleep on the floor. Three of you are going to need to sleep in the barn. I'm sorry."

"That's fine, Donnel." Chrom reassured him. "Thank you for letting us stay here at all."

Ophelia looked back to Caeldori. "I think she should have the bed. She's not going to feel well when she recovers. She'll need it."

"Huh?!" Soleil turned to Ophelia in frustration. "So she gets the bed because she got so out of control! She should get the barn! That would punish her!"

"Soleil!"

"Ugh. Fine. I get to sleep inside though."

Gaius looked around to the others. "Yeah so uh, my back isn't what it used to be. It's also pretty cold out. I don't know that I should sleep outside."

Henry shrugged. "I'm fine with sleeping out here. It'll be just like when I was in the Plegian Army! We didn't always have enough tents to go around, especially since I might have burned some of them down."

Ophelia smiled at her grandfather, then turned back to Chrom. "I'll sleep outside too. We can be together! Like a family reunion. It'll be fun!"

"I don't mind sleeping outside if that's what we have to do. I'm not really in the mood for 'fun', Ophelia. I just want to go to sleep. It's been a very long day."

"Aw come on. You slept through most of it!"

"Please, Ophelia."

"Oh. Alright."

Isaiah nodded. "Sorry about this guys."

"No! No this is very kind of you Donnel. Thank you." Chrom also turned to Matilda. "And you too, Matilda. We're sorry about the burden."

"Anything for the Exalt. We just don't have much is all. We do have a big breakfast waiting for you in the morning though! Isaiah did just get back from town."

Gaius stepped forward. "Ooh. Anything sweet?"

Isaiah smiled, though it wasn't an entirely pleasant smile. "You know what? Just because you said that, no."

"Nice to see you again too, Tinhead."

Chrom chuckled. "Thank you, Donnel."

* * *

As promised, Ophelia and the others woke up to a decent breakfast in the morning. It was mainly salted meat with bread and mushrooms served as sides, but Isaiah had managed a bit of fresh fruit on his trip to The Saltworks. Gaius was pleased to finally get _something_ sweet. Ophelia was happy to have any food, but she couldn't remember the last time she had the opportunity for fresh fruit. Ophelia helped to clean the table after the meal, but she also set aside a bit of food and kept it on a tray. Matilda noticed and seemed somewhat annoyed by it, but she didn't let it show in her face. It was just the most subtle of signs that told Ophelia when Matilda was fine and when she was just hiding her feelings behind manners. "Ophelia, was it?"

"Yes that's right?"

"So… having seconds are we?"

"Huh? Oh! Oh no sorry. That meal was more than enough, thank you. I just wanted to bring something to Caeldori."

Matilda remembered the red headed young woman that Soleil and Ophelia dragged inside the previous night. "Oh of course. That's very thoughtful of you to care about your friend like that. Is she one of… erm… Naga's 'special people'?"

"Huh? No, nothing like that! She just uh… she's been hitting the sauce a little. She had an injury, and we didn't have anything better to treat it with than whiskey."

"Oh! I see. Well let me know if you need anything from us."

"Thank you."

Ophelia took the tray of food and walked upstairs to where Caeldori was sleeping. Ophelia had been wondering whether she was awake or not, but the moaning noises that greeted her answered the question. Caeldori was sitting up in bed, rubbing her forehead. She barely turned to acknowledge Ophelia, and she didn't return her friend's cheery grin. "Good morning, Caeldy!" Ophelia said as she placed the food down by a bedside table. She then pulled up a chair and sat beside her companion. "Sleep well?"

"Oh. Argh!" Caeldori rubbed her eyes and lightly banged her head against the headboard. "What time is it? Why are you all up before sunrise?"

"Huh? Caeldori, the sun is up."

"Then why am I so tired?"

Ophelia groaned herself as she remembered what happened the previous night. "Maybe because you downed so much of that palliative."

"Huh?"

Ophelia shook her head. "The whiskey, you big tub of booze."

Caeldori moaned louder and sank into bed. "Gods. My head. I can't think straight."

"Well I brought you some food when you're ready. We figured you wouldn't want to come down yet."

"Mmm. Thank you." Caeldori turned her head into the pillow. "Now if you're willing to do me one more favor, I don't really feel like talking."

"Sure thing. I just… I wanted to know that you're okay."

"I'm fine, Phelia."

"Well… are you sure there's nothing you want to say to me?"

Caeldori looked back to Ophelia with pleading eyes. "Please, Phelia. Can we do this later?"

"Caeldy, I want to talk about what happened last night. I promise I'm not mad."

"Argh! Why is everything so loud?!"

Ophelia reached into her clothing and pulled out a gem. "Hold on. I think I can help you. Your aura is all off. It's murky and wonky, but I can purify it! That'll help you feel better!"

Caeldori sat back up and grabbed her own head. "Oh come on, Phelia. I am too hungover for your talk about auras!"

"No really! My gem magic can help you feel better."

"Ophelia, I've never heard of gem magic. Cordelia never heard of gem magic. She never heard about auras either! I get that you're a gifted mage, but I think you sometimes make things up!"

Ophelia feigned a smile, but she was somewhat offended. "What would Cordelia know of magic anyways? What would you know?"

"Cordelia didn't know much about using magic no, but she was taught about kinds of magic that enemy mages might use against her when she was training to be a Pegasus Knight. Her mentor, Captain Phila, was a veteran of Exalt Caracalla's crusade in Plegia. She faced all kinds of dark magic, and she taught all the women she trained to be able to deal with it. She never heard anything of gem magic or auras."

"Well it's not offensive magic, Caeldy. So… Phila fought in my great-grandfather's crusade?"

"She did. Served in the Pegasus Knight Storm Squadrons."

"What's that?"

"Surely you don't want me to tell you the whole history of the Pegasus Knights, or even of Cordelia and Phila's lives. Back to my original point, I think you're just making things up, Phelia."

"Hey! It's worth trying right?"

"Mmm. I guess my headache can't get any worse. Just no loud noises okay?"

"Err, how do you feel about bright lights?"

"Argh! No-ho!"

Ophelia held her gem high in the air and waved her hand towards Caeldori. "Hear me oh foul curse of inebriation! I am Ophelia Dusk! Chosen heroine! The stars themselves smile down on my arcane power. I now cleanse Caeldori of the Pegasus Knights, so that her aura no longer be tainted!" Ophelia's gem glowed brightly for a few seconds, and Caeldori desperately shielded her eyes, but nothing else happened. Ophelia was grinning from ear to ear though, and Caeldori eventually turned back around and straightened up.

"Huh. I do feel a little better."

"Of course you do! I ungunked your aura, and now you feel a lot better with the corrupting goo of alcohol gone."

"Ophelia that's… that's ridiculous. Are you saying that magic is a cure for a hangover?"

"That's a very simplistic way of looking at it. I cleansed your aura. I didn't affect you in a physical way, but rather in a spiritual way. It's your life essence that's different. It was challenging." Ophelia held out her gem proudly. "But I used my brightest diamond."

"Wait what?! You carry a diamond around with you?!"

"Sure do. I have all kinds of gems for my gem magic."

"Why didn't you tell us that?! We could really use that Ophelia, and you're wasting it on made up magic."

"That's a little unfair, Caeldy. We've never been that desperate for money, and these are mine."

"Your magic is made up!"

"Don't be so skeptical. You feel better don't you? I can hear that spring in your voice."

Caeldori calmed down. "Well bright lights and those loud noises I keep hearing from downstairs aren't as bad now as they were a few seconds ago, and I feel more alert. Huh. Maybe you did do something, Ophelia."

"I think you owe this maiden an apology."

Caeldori smiled. "Alright. I'm sorry I doubted you, Ophelia."

"And… I think you owe me an apology for something else."

Caeldori looked down at the bed. "Right. I'm sorry for how I acted."

"I'm not mad, Caeldy. Really I'm not. I just want to talk about some of the things you said."

"I honestly don't remember all of it, Phelia."

"But I do. I want to see if you meant it."

"Huh?"

"Caeldy… you made it sound like you think yourself apart from Soleil and I. You seemed to think that we're closer to each other than we are to you."

Caeldori shrugged. "But isn't that true? You two fought together for years before you met me. I'm an outsider."

"Caeldy…" Ophelia took her friend's hand. "We haven't known each other as long no, but we've still been friends for years. The three of us work together. You're not an outsider! We need you."

"I-I don't know, Ophelia."

"Come on. We couldn't get this far without you. You're strong and brave, and we both look up to you. You are my friend, Caeldy."

Caeldori wasn't sure what to think. "You really aren't mad at me are you?"

"Of course not."

"But I deserve that. The way I acted was inappropriate."

"No. It's fine. I just want to talk about some of the things you said. That's all." Ophelia looked down. "You thought that we're not as strong as we should be. You said we're not the heroes we should be. What did you mean?"

Caeldori tried to look away. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Come on, Caeldy. I just want to understand how you feel. We can talk to each other about these things can't we?"

Caeldori sighed and turned back. "Alright. I do think that, Ophelia. I just don't think we're as far along as we should be."

"But we've come this far. Why are you so quick to see the flaws, Caeldy? Why can't you see the strengths? You do this with yourself you know. You're one of the strongest people I know, but you don't seem to think highly of yourself. Another thing you said was that you worry about rebuilding the Pegasus Knights. You're afraid you can't do it." Ophelia placed her hand on Caeldori's shoulder. "If anyone can, it's you!"

"If only saying it made it so. I do remember that, Ophelia. Everything I said is true. I don't know where to start. I don't understand how I'm going to rebuild an entire military order!"

Ophelia thought about what she said. "You know I've thought about that too. Cordelia didn't finish training you, so I'm not sure that you could rebuild the order as it was. That doesn't mean you can't rebuild the Pegasus Knights though."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you can't rebuild them exactly, but you could reforge it. Make a new military organization that's as close as you can get it."

"No. No! It has to be the same!"

"But you couldn't make it exactly the same. That doesn't mean you can't make a military order that does everything the Pegasus Knights did. You're always looking at what you can't do or what you haven't done, but why can't you see your strengths?" Ophelia looked deeply into Caeldori's eyes. "You're always worried about being perfect, but can't you just see how strong you already are? What you've already done? Maybe you can't completely rebuild the Pegasus Knights, but you can forge something to follow in their legacy."

Caeldori refused to accept what she was hearing. She shook her head and sat up straight in her bed. "Ophelia, I can't do that! I have to rebuild the Pegasus Knights exactly as they were! The Pegasus Knights have fought with the Exalts since the Halidom of Ylisse was founded, and they served the United Kingdom of Archanea and the Kingdom of Altea before that. The order goes back thousands of years. It all dies if I can't rebuild it."

"But things change, Caeldy. Just look at Ylisse. The Halidom of Ylisse isn't the same thing as the United Kingdom of Archanea, and that wasn't the same as the Kingdom of Altea, but Ylisse still follows in the legacy of those kingdoms. The royal family still traces back to Anri. It'll be just like that. Maybe the organization you build won't be like the Pegasus Knights exactly, but it will still trace back to the Pegasus Knights that served the Hero King."

"No!" Caeldori frantically shook her head, as if trying to prevent Ophelia's words from getting to her in any way. "It can't be different! It has to be the same! I have to rebuild the Pegasus Knights exactly as they were, or I'll be failing my grandmother!"

"Why are you being like this?"

Caeldori sighed and thought about it. "You know, Ophelia? I think I will tell you about Phila. This is a story that Cordelia told me, and she was told by Captain Phila."

"So who was Captain Phila exactly?"

"She was the leader of the Pegasus Knights when my grandmother was a young woman. She died in Gangrel's war with Emmeryn. Cordelia was meant to be her successor, and she would have rebuilt the Pegasus Knights after the fight against the Grimleal was over but… well… you know. Phila was just fifteen when she joined the Pegasus Knights, back when Cordelia was only about four or five years old. At the time your great-grandfather was waging his war with Plegia. Phila was young and patriotic, so she joined the military to fight for Ylisse."

"What does this story have to do with what we were talking about?"

"See the Pegasus Knights normally protect the Exalt, but Caracalla used them very aggressively in his war against Plegia. He did something no Exalt had done before. He personally restructured the Pegasus Knights into two groups, the Guard Squadrons and the Storm Squadrons. The two organizations even had different captains. Caracalla turned the Pegasus Knights into his personal soldiers. He had the Guard Squadrons work as a police force and guard supply lines into Plegia, and he used the Storm Squadrons even more offensively. They were shock troops and scouts, but more than that they were enforcers. They were tasked with dealing with Plegian citizens in occupied territories. They had unlimited authority to do anything they wanted in service to the Exalt. They were judge, jury, and executioner rolled into one."

"What?! That kind of power sounds dangerous."

"It was. Those women became brutal enforcers. They were nothing like the royal protectors the Pegasus Knights had been."

"You said Phila served with the Storm Squadrons."

"Yes. That's my story. That's the story Phila told Cordelia. New Pegasus Knights were made part of the Guard Squadrons. Only the best were selected for the Storm Squadrons. Phila had fought with distinction, and so she was given the opportunity to be with the Pegasus Knight Storm Squadrons, also known as the PKSS. She said she was proud of it, until one day."

"What happened to her?"

"Not what happened to her. What she did. See during the war, Ylissean soldiers feared Plegian dark mages more than anything. Imagine an entire army of people like Henry? Tearing people apart with magic and laughing about it. Caracalla eventually made an edict. Dark mages were to be killed, even if they surrendered."

"What?! That's a war crime."

"It was a brutal war. It goes beyond that, Ophelia. Whenever a settlement was captured, anyone that could use dark magic was executed. Caracalla didn't want dark mages attacking his forces."

"So anyone who could use dark magic was killed?!"

"Yes, and that task fell on the PKSS. They 'processed' the people in occupied territory. One day Phila and her squad were doing just this to a Plegian village. The Exalt himself was there watching them. Making sure they were doing their jobs. The Storm Squadrons captain, a woman named Aeneas, was there too. The PKSS they uh… they lined everyone in the village up, and they asked where the dark magic users were. If a villager didn't cooperate… Aeneas murdered them. After three villagers had been killed, one broke down and told them everything. The village had five dark magic users. Four dark mages that had deserted, and a teenage girl who just had a talent for it. Aeneas had them bound, lined up… and executed."

"Just because they could use dark magic?! That's a pogrom!"

"Phila was one of the executioners. She… Corelia said she always choked up at this part… she had to stab her target four times before he stopped moving. After they were all dead… Caracalla… he made the villagers dig their graves. Then he… he exiled the people into the wilderness, and he had the village itself burned to the ground."

Ophelia was stunned. Chrom's father was known for the brutality of his war with Plegia, but she had never made any emotional connection to it before. "You can't be serious!"

"Phila decided then that someday she'd lead the Pegasus Knights. She'd be captain. Do you know why, Ophelia?"

"N-no."

"Because she realized that day how horrible the PKSS had become, and that Caracalla had been responsible. He created the Storm Squadrons. He changed the Pegasus Knights. Phila decided that if she was ever in charge, she'd preserve the honor of the order. She wouldn't let any Exalt change it. Under her, the Pegasus Knights would be the protectors of the Exalt and the people of Ylisse. They wouldn't be enforcers. They wouldn't be stormtroopers. They wouldn't be executioners. She would preserve the honor of the Pegasus Knights, and she would never allow them to become what they were when she was a young woman again."

"So… you think that if you changed the Pegasus Knights, it would be dishonoring the order?"

"It's more than that, Ophelia. Phila told Cordelia that story because she was supposed to be Phila's successor. Phila knew the danger of changing a military organization. Of ignoring tradition. Keeping the Pegasus Knights as they had been for thousands of years, refusing to allow them to change, it was all to keep them from becoming such a brutal organization again. If I don't understand that, if I allow the traditions of the Pegasus Knights to be ignored, then I could create something horrible. Something that would dishonor the millennia of history. I can't do that, Ophelia. I just can't. I rebuild the Pegasus Knights as they were, or I'm failing a military order that has existed for thousands of years."

"Caeldy, I can see why you think that way, but you won't create something like that just because you make some changes. Besides, Caracalla enacted those changes to make the Pegasus Knights into enforcers for his crusade. The changes you would make, the differences in your organization, would be out of necessity. It won't automatically make your organization like that!"

"I don't know, Ophelia. You just have to understand that there's a lot of pressure on me."

"I understand that, Caeldy." Ophelia grabbed Caeldori's hand again. This time she took her prosthetic, caressing it and showing Caeldori that she wasn't repulsed by it at all. "But you need to understand that perfection isn't something you have to achieve. You always see your flaws. The things you can't do. You act like you're failing if you're not completely perfect. You need to learn to look at your strengths. At what you've done. You need to learn that you have inherent value. Not because your Cordelia's granddaughter. Not because you're a Pegasus Knight. Not because you're with us. You life has value because you're Caeldori."

Caeldori just shook her head. "I have a lot to look up to, Ophelia. I don't know."

"Well… I know you're dealing with a lot. Whatever happens though, you'll always have us. You're not an outsider, Caeldy. You mean a lot to Soleil and I, and you'll always have us by your side."

Caeldori tried to hide her emotions, but Ophelia had gotten to her. She seemed to have been harboring guilt over how she acted. Over what she had said. Ophelia's kindness moved her, and she had to fight to stay stoic. Ophelia could tell how her friend really felt, and she just smiled back. "Thank you, Phelia."

"Of course. I'll just leave your breakfast up here for you. Come down when you're ready."

Caeldori's lips slowly curled into a smile, and she almost couldn't look Ophelia in the eye. "I can't believe you really forgive me. Thank you, Ophelia. Thank you."

"Of course. We'll always be here for you, Caeldy. You're not alone. We will always be there for you."

Caeldori didn't say anything else. She knew her voice would come out shaky if she did. She just nodded and smiled, fighting back tears as she did.

* * *

Chrom helped Matilda and Paul clean up after breakfast, and both he and Matilda noticed that Isaiah hadn't stuck around to help. Chrom went outside to look for him, and he found his old companion on the porch of his home. Isaiah slowly rocked himself back and forth on an old rocking chair, and Chrom noticed Gaius standing next to him. The once leader of the Shepherds stepped out to greet his old allies, though Isaiah didn't seem overly eager to speak with him.

"Well I reckon Matilda wants me to help her out with the cleaning and what not. She's probably not right as rain seeing me duck out as soon as breakfast was over. I just wanted to catch up with Gaius was all."

Chrom walked onto the porch and leaned against one of the beams. "Actually I helped her and Paul clean up. Don't worry about anything, Donnel."

"Oh. Much obliged. Still, she was probably a little upset."

"Well… I don't know. She won't come out here if that's what you're wondering."

"Thanks fer doin' my chores for me then." Donnel stopped rocking and spoke quietly, so that Chrom couldn't hear him. "Really makes up for taking my family away thirty years back."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing." Isaiah answered. "Nothing."

"You're welcome, Donnel. Thank you for letting us stay."

"I may not be in Ylisse anymore, but that don't mean I can't provide some of that famous country hospitality."

Chrom looked down at Isaiah. He seemed to be so different from the young man he had first met. There was little physically different about him besides the thirty years of aging, but he carried himself differently now. Spoke differently. His innocence and eagerness to learn were gone. Now he seemed jaded and reserved, and there was a firm and commanding tone to everything he said. Donnel had changed a lot, and Chrom remembered that he had introduced himself by another name. If he was anything like Chrom himself, he might not want anything to do with his old life. "Donnel?"

"Hmm?"

"I know you haven't corrected me but… do you want to go by Donnel? Or should I call you Isaiah?"

Isaiah shrugged. "Isaiah, I guess. I haven't been Donnel to anyone but my Ma in years. I thought the Grimleal might be gunnin' for me after… it happened, so I changed my name."

Gaius smiled and finally contributed something to the conversation. "Blue over here went by a different name too, you know."

"Really? What'd ya go by, Chrom?"

"Err… Mercer. I was Mercer."

"The girls tell me he was a real baby about it, too. 'Don't call me, Chrom! Calling me that makes me ANGRY!' It was a little obnoxious." Gaius joked. Chrom glared at him.

"Thank you for that fair and accurate account, Gaius." Chrom said sarcastically.

"Happy to help."

Isaiah ran his hand along the stubble on his face. "Hmm. Mercer huh? Where'd that name come from?"

"I uh, I don't know. It came to me."

"As if by grace of Naga. The stars and the wind just echoed that name in an act of divine providence. Hallelujah!" Gaius jeered.

"Yeah. Thanks for that. Anyways, where'd you get the name Isaiah from?"

"Ma said it was my grandpappy's name."

"You mentioned that your Ma still calls you Donnel?"

"Yeah. That she does. Her mind isn't what it used to be. She can't be learned any new information. I done told her time and time again not to call me Donnel, but she can't remember. I'm always Donnel to her." Isaiah turned to look Chrom in the eye. "That's why I told my family the truth about who I used to be. Ma wouldn't call me Isaiah, and Matilda got curious. Eventually I just came clean. I mean, who'd want to talk about a past like that otherwise?"

"Right." The now very familiar feeling of guilt washed over Chrom again. He now understood that it would never go away. He just had to make amends with the people that brought it on as much as he could. "Donnel… I mean, Isaiah… the two of us haven't really talked about what happened yet." Isaiah's expression became somewhat pained. "Just know that I'm sorry. I know that doesn't sound like much to you, but _I am so sorry_. With every fiber of my being. Not a day goes by that I don't think about-"

"I don't want to have this talk, Chrom."

"Y-you're sure?"

Isaiah took a deep breath, and his voice became very strict. "It's fine."

Gaius nodded. "The two of us have talked about it. I told him the truth, Blue. He knows you were under an illusion. He knows you thought you were protecting the infants. He knows how much you've been trying to make up for it."

Isaiah nodded, but he didn't say anything more. Chrom was relieved and hurt at the same time. Gaius' words showed that Gaius himself believed all of that. Given how violent their reunion at Cordelia's homestead had been, a part of Chrom had still feared that Gaius resented him. Chrom couldn't help but smile at Gaius' genuine belief in his story. He would have preferred to tell Donnel himself, however. As difficult as the conversation would be, there would be no closure if he didn't talk to Donnel himself. "Oh. I see. You… you don't want to talk about it?"

Isaiah's face twisted with fury, such that even Gaius backed away. He caught himself before it could carry into his tone, but his voice was still anything but friendly. "It's fine, Chrom. I'm just fine as a pig in slop… not that there are any pigs no more."

"I-I see."

Isaiah shook his head and turned back to Chrom. "I know you think talking about it will help, but how? How could I talk about what happened?"

"Well… it could-"

Isaiah hadn't intended Chrom to actually answer, and he briefly lost his temper. "NO! N-no! Horse dung!" Isaiah stood up and rubbed his face, trying very hard to calm himself. Chrom was hurt, but he didn't back away. He hadn't backed away from Gaius or Cordelia when they snapped at him, and he wouldn't just turn and leave now. He deserved Donnel's frustration, and he needed to hear it. Isaiah didn't let his anger get the better of him though. He really didn't want to have the conversation Chrom seemed to need. "Look let's just… let's just calm down."

"Donnel… I mean, I mean… Isaiah."

"Look nothing good will come from talking about it. Nothing! I… I don't want to bring it up again."

"It could help, Isaiah."

Gaius also turned to Chrom. "Blue, can't you just leave it alone?"

Isaiah shot Chrom a considerably more menacing glare. "Look here's the way it is. Gaius and Henry told me about what yer doin' now. You help these girls. You helped Cordelier. Yer trying to make up for what you did all them years ago. After hearing all that about you… it seems that you really are a good man. You really didn't mean to betray us." Chrom didn't answer. He feared this was going somewhere, as Isaiah's tone wasn't friendly. "But now you want to bring it all up? Huh?! You want to walk me down memory lane?! I've built this, _all of this_ , to start over! I don't want to think about my first wife! The daughters you STOLE from me! I-I want to see you as a good man, Chrom. After everything I've heard about you, I want to see you as a good man. I want to help you now when you need a place to stay because you helped me all those years ago. You showed me a life outside my little village. I never would have met my first wife without cha." Isaiah's expression became very pained. "But I can't think that if you remind me exactly of what ya took from me. I've spent thirty years forgetting, Chrom. Don't remind me. DO NOT bring it up!"

"I... I-I… I'm sorry."

"We're not having that conversation, Chrom. You fellers are welcome to stay as long as you need. It's the least I can do for old friends." Isaiah stared daggers at Chrom one last time. "But you won't be an 'old friend' if you remind me why I left Ylisse. Why I don't have my old family. Why I farm shrooms all damned day."

"I… understand."

Isaiah was silent for several minutes, and neither Chrom or Gaius knew what else to say. The awkwardness refused to pass, and Isaiah finally decided to deal with the source. "But err… there is something you can do for me, Chrom."

"Hmm?"

"If yer willing to do a few more of my chores." Isaiah turned to Chrom, his face much friendlier. "I didn't finish harvestin' all the mushrooms round the house. Would you mind getting a basket and helping out?"

"Oh uh, sure. I can do that."

Gaius scowled. "Yeesh, 'Isaiah'. You think he's here to do all your work?"

"No, Gaius, really! It's fine."

"Well I was going to do it myself, but then I had to leave to pick up supplies from them there Saltworks. Closest town we have round these parts. It was already late at night when I started coming back, and then that's where I met you folks again. With all the work I've been doing putting you up and convincing my wife to have y'all round, I just forgot about it."

"No, Isaiah! Really it's fine! I'll be happy to help in any way."

"Thank you, Chrom. Just find a basket inside and pick the little brown shrooms growing by the back of the house. Just pick the small ones. Them big ones are noxious."

"Right."

"And if you see a glowin' one then don't touch it."

"Glowing mushrooms?"

"And tell Sarah not to pick any if she finds any glowing ones."

"I can do that, Isaiah. It's a small price to pay for letting us stay here."

Chrom walked back inside, and Isaiah relaxed back into his chair. Gaius glared at him until he finally acknowledged him. "What?!"

"You just manipulated him! You're making him do your work and you remind him about how you're helping us if anyone protests!"

"Am I wrong? A few chores is a small price to stay for getting to stay here without paying no rent."

"Why him? Why not Ophelia or Soleil?"

"What kind of man would I be if I asked women folk staying with me to do my manual chores?"

"What about me? You could have asked me?"

"Well gee thanks. I'll be sure to give you a holler if I need anything to up and vanish on me."

"Oh that's a low blow." Gaius studied Isaiah, who just stared blankly back. "Admit it, you just don't want to be alone with him."

"Why would I, Gaius? He took Sully from me. Butchered her, even though they'd known each other since they was kids! He took my kids from me! The daughter I got to know, and the one I fathered in this here continuity."

"It wasn't his fault, Isaiah. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. When I first saw him again I just, I just wanted to put a bullet in him! Sometimes I still want to just… to just hit him in his pampered, royal face! Argh!" Gaius had to take a deep breath.

"Gaius… how exactly did you and Chrom reunite?"

"That's a story for another time. My point is I hated him. I _hated_ him. But… it wasn't his fault. When you come to truly believe that, it gets easier to be around him. You see him and you watch him and… you remember why he inspired you all those years ago. He's not a bad man."

"I want to believe that. I don't want to hate him. You make it sound like he really is helping the world now. You make me want to look up to him again." Isaiah shook his head and went back to rocking himself. "But I can't just look past what happened. My first wife is still in the ground, Gaius! Him being sorry don't get rid of the pain!"

"But… maybe talking about it would help. You'll get mad at first, but it'll help you move on."

"I have moved on. I just don't want him to suck me back in to what I've tried so hard to move past."

"Donnel… he really does just want to talk. Are you afraid he'll ask you to come with us?"

"W-would he?"

"I don't think so. I told you about Cordelia, Henry, and I, but we didn't have families like you have here. Cordelia had Copy, but she chose to come with us. Henry got to meet his family because he went with Chrom. I didn't have anyone. I wasn't leaving anyone behind… except maybe my secretary." Gaius leaned back into his arms. "Aw hell. I forgot about her. Eh, she's talented. She'll find new work."

"What in tarnation did you need a secretary for?"

"That's a story for another time. Anyways, the three of us didn't leave anyone behind when we went with Chrom again. You have a family that needs you. Kids to raise. Chrom's not going to ask you to abandon them to help us. He wouldn't dare. He really does just want to make amends."

Isaiah thought about it, but eventually he just shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright."

Isaiah turned to Gaius, but his expression was somewhat nervous. "Gaius… that's a pretty big arquebus you have. You mentioned a secretary. You said you had all kinds of weapons before them Arch Surg fellers captured you. What… what exactly have you been doing for thirty years?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

* * *

Chrom retrieved a basket and walked around the back of Isaiah's house to hear a high pitched, screechy noise. Chrom's first thought was to fear some kind of possibly wounded animal had made its way to the homestead. He drew the Falchion and carefully crept around to find that the noise was actually coming from someone very familiar. "Shrill? I mean," Chrom shook his head, embarrassed that Gaius' nickname for her had appeared in his head before her actual name. He certainly understood where Gaius got it from. ",I mean… Soleil?"

Soleil was crouched down a few meters away. She picked mushrooms from the ground and placed them in a basket beside her. What seemed to be the tortured screams of an animal at the end of its life was actually just her singing to herself as she worked. "Right now the only thing… that keeps me hanging on. When I feel my strength, _yeah_ , is almost gone - I remember mama said." Soleil rose to her feet and sang into a picked mushroom, energetically but awkwardly moving her body as she did. "You can't hurry love! Noo you'll just have to wait! She said love don't come ea-sy! It's a game of give and take! How long must I wait? Hoow much more can I take? Before looonelineeess causes my heart, heart to breaAAAUGH!" Soleil jumped up after noticing Chrom approaching. Chrom had been wondering how to make himself known without it being awkward, but just silently walking up behind Soleil apparently hadn't been the answer. "Holy gods-damn, Chrom! You scared the stat growths out of me!"

"Oh s-sorry. I didn't mean to. What would you have to be scared about?"

"You just appeared out of nowhere!" Soleil's startled expression turned to embarrassment, and she turned back around and returned to picking mushrooms. "I don't like it when people hear my singing. I thought I was alone!"

"I'm sorry."

"W-what are you doing out here anyways?!" Soleil said in an annoyed tone without turning back.

"Donnel… Isaiah asked me to help him."

"Oh? Matilda asked me to help."

"Well that's fine. We'll get it done faster this way."

Soleil stood back up and looked Chrom in the eye. "Or I can just do it. I don't need your help."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm okay." Soleil tried to sound polite, but Chrom could tell she was hiding anger. "I don't want to burden you."

"It's fine, Soleil. I'm happy to help."

"You really don't have to help me." Soleil responded in a quieter, grimmer tone.

"You… don't want me around. I-I get it. I'm… I'm sorry."

The frustration still evident in Soleil's expression made it clear that this was exactly what she wanted, but Soleil didn't want her feelings to be that obvious. "Wait! No that's… I didn't mean it that way. I just…" Soleil went back to picking the mushrooms. "Let's just get to work."

Chrom nodded and began picking mushrooms a short distance away from Soleil and placing them into his own basket. Chrom realized that his fears back in the Arch Surg fort were accurate. Soleil didn't want anything to do with him. She was willing to have him as an ally, to work with him alongside others, and care about his safety, but their personal relationship had soured. Soleil had not forgiven him for what he did to the Shepherds. To her father. Ophelia and even Caeldori had seemed to let it go. Their initial reactions were of shock, but they recovered. Soleil was not in shock anymore. Her emotions had settled into a quiet hatred. Chrom glanced over to her frequently, but she never once looked back. She and Chrom started close together, but she intentionally went after mushrooms that took her away from him. Chrom realized that she was trying to finish up and leave as soon as she could, but he couldn't let her just walk away. A part of him had to speak with her again. A part of him had an even greater fear. If he didn't reconcile with Soleil soon, he'd lose her. Chrom worked very quickly to pick all the mushrooms on his side so that he could justify talking to Soleil again. As soon as the last of the fungi had been gathered, he rushed over to Soleil's side and started picking those mushrooms as a reason to be closer to her. Soleil saw right through it, and she only gave him a bitter side glance, but Chrom had to speak to her again.

"So uh… y-you're a good singer."

"Err… thanks."

"Really. I mean… it needs work… but there's natural talent there."

"I don't want you or anyone listening to me." Soleil snapped. Chrom glanced over to see that her smile was completely gone now. Soleil only relinquished her smile when truly upset. Chrom took a deep breath. He wasn't always good at expressing his feelings, and he certainly never practiced bonding with people much in the thirty years since he had known Soleil's father and grandparents, but he also knew he was terrible at subtle expressions of his emotions. He had to confront Soleil directly, or they'd both live with their feelings forever buried and soured.

"Soleil?"

The third generation Shepherd turned to the man her ancestors had so trusted, and her soft and girlish face became increasingly contorted with rage as the seconds went by without Chrom saying anything else. "What?" Soleil finally turned her whole body. "What?!"

"Soleil I'm… I'm sorry."

"For sneaking up on me? It's fine, Chrom."

"No. No, no, no." Chrom answered, his voice unintentionally trailing off until he was barely audible. He had to calm himself to speak normally again. "For… for not telling you."

"Huh?"

"Soleil… I'm sorry for not telling you the truth of what happened to the Shepherds. What happened to Olivia, and Lon'qu, and Inigo. I'm sorry for letting you trust me without telling you the truth, and I'm sorry for that truth. For taking away your family. For making the world like this."

Soleil's eye twitched, and her expression was as surprised as it was angry, as if she couldn't believe Chrom was bringing the conversation up. "Shut your mouth."

"Soleil…"

"I don't want to talk about this, Chrom."

"But if we don't!" Chrom caught himself. He didn't want to be anything but completely calm with Soleil. "But if we don't then we'll dwell on these feeling forever."

"Oh but that's good for you, boy." Soleil's smile returned, but it was a sinister, angry smile. "You don't want me to do anything but dwell on these feelings. You wouldn't like it if I showed you exactly how I feel."

"We need to work together, Soleil."

"But we don't have to like each other."

Chrom took a deep breath, trying not to let Soleil's words get to him. "I can't make you like me, Soleil. I don't even have the right to say that your feelings aren't justified. I deserve your anger, but we can't hide these feelings. I want to talk about this."

"I don't!"

"Ophelia and Caeldori have forgiven me. They trust me again."

"And I'm supposed to just bend over for you because they ran back into your _murdering_ arms?!"

"N-no! I can't ask you to forgive me, but we need to have this talk."

"How?! How, how could I ever talk to you about this?! How do I talk to the man that murdered my father about it?! I grew up poor because of you! My mother worked herself to the bone to support me BY HERSELF because of you! How do I talk to you about that?! How could I talk to the man that did all of that to me?!" Soleil stood up, and Chrom slowly rose to his own feet. He'd gotten Soleil to open up, but he also knew he had to be careful with what he wished for. "I don't want to talk to you about anything! I want you to just GO AWAY!"

"Soleil… let it out."

Soleil gave an unnerving laugh. "Okay. Fine. Fine! You want to know how I feel? You think things will be better?!" Soleil jabbed her finger in Chrom's chest. "Cordelia and Tiki said you were a hero! They said you could fix the world's problems! They were either deranged or lying through their gods-damned teeth. They lied to us! You're the cause of the world's problems! How is that supposed to make us feel?! We trusted you, and it turns out you're the cause of all my pain! You murdered my father! You let Gangrel and Aversa do this to the world! I grew up with nothing because of you, and you dared to let us look up to you! Gaius was right when he first saw you again, and Cordelia was wrong! You're a bitter old sack of trash, and you should have died with YOUR FAMILY!" Soleil took several deep breaths. "Thank you for fighting with us so far. Thank you for protecting us so far. Thank you for all of that… but I don't want anything to do with you. The two of us? We're not okay. We never will be!"

Chrom's heart sank, and he struggled with his desire to walk away. He didn't break eye contact with Soleil though. He powered through his sorrow and managed the softest voice he could. "Soleil… I'm sorry."

Soleil exploded, as if further infuriated that Chrom would dare to say anything else to her. "YOU'RE SORRY?! Oh well, that makes everything okay then! Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused the people that fight by your side now?! Cordelia loved you, and you could barely give her the time of day back then! You blinded her! You killed Gaius' wife and daughter! You tried to kill Caeldori's mother, and if she is dead now it's because of you! You killed Ophelia's father! You killed Isaiah's wife and daughter! You killed your own children! Your own wife! Your own sisters! The world is ruled by an empire of evil now! They turned the younger Lucina into a slave soldier! They've been forcing Tiki to run for thirty years! They experimented on us at the Rockpile! Tortured us! They've driven us around from place to place, safehouse to safehouse! If not them, then the Arch Surg which, by the way, exist because of them. That means they exist because of you! All of this suffering is your fault, but it's okay because you're sorry?! HUH?! BECAUSE YOU'RE SORRY?! Now you dare to want me to talk with you about it because you can't stand one of your allies not throwing themselves down at your feet? Because all the Shepherds just blindly did what you said, I have to even after everything you've done to me?!" Soleil lunged forward and started pounding on Chrom's chest. Her frantic flailing didn't hurt at first, but it became more powerful with each blow. "You killed my father! **_I HATE YOU_**!" Soleil struck Chrom hard enough to almost knock him over, but he forced himself to keep his composure. Soleil didn't look at him anymore after that. She just stood and stared at her feet for almost a minute.

"Soleil…"

Soleil finally looked back to Chrom, but her anger was gone. She was crying to herself, fighting not to break down completely, and her voice was soft and shaky. "I hate you."

"Soleil I… I-"

"It's not fair. I… I believed. Cordelia made me believe. Tiki made me believe. Even Ophelia made me believe. They made me believe that you could fix the world! You were supposed to be better!" Soleil looked down at her feet again, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "It's, it's like a joke! The gods have either abandoned us, or it's all a big joke to them! You know?! You were supposed to help us fix everything, but the hero of legends ends up being the cause of the world's problems. Of my problems! It's like a dark, twisted fairytale! It's like a gods-damned joke! Naga and Grima are, are laughing their asses off together! Seeing how much suffering they can cause us mortals! It's, it's not FAIR! You were supposed to be better!" Soleil's crying became so intense that she couldn't speak anymore. For almost a minute she just cried to herself, and Chrom could do nothing more than stare at her. He desperately thought of something to say to her, but then he realized nothing he could _say_ would make her feel better. Instead he just took a few steps closer to her, and Soleil cautiously looked up. Chrom gazed into her tear stained eyes. They were a very light brown, almost amber. Almost the same color as her father's. Chrom wasn't sure that what he wanted to do was appropriate, but deep down he felt that it was all he could do for Soleil, and he had to do something. Without thinking, Chrom just did what he felt was right. He moved to hug the young woman he'd caused so much harm, and she reciprocated. The two held each other tightly, and Soleil bawled into Chrom's shoulder.

"Shh. It's okay. It's okay." Chrom whispered.

"OH GAAH-HAADS!" Soleil whimpered. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Shh. It's okay."

"I don't… I don't hate you. I don't. I just… it's not fair!"

"Calm down. It's okay. Soleil… I am sorry for what I've done to the world. For what I've done to you. Inigo deserved the chance to meet you. Olivia and Lon'qu deserved the chance to meet you. It's okay if you hate me. I deserve your hatred. It is my fault that the world is like this, but I'm trying to make up for it."

"You… really mean that. Don't you?"

"I want to stand by your side, Soleil. I want to make up for everything I've done by helping you. I can't make you trust me again. I deserve your anger, but I won't leave you. So long as you need me, I will never leave you. You will always have my love."

Both Soleil and Chrom's eyes widened. "You… l-love me?!"

Chrom hadn't meant to say that, but he did feel that way. "Y-yes. Yes. I love you. All three of you. As much as I loved any of the Shepherds."

Soleil slowly looked up from Chrom's shoulder, putting their faces just centimeters apart. "Chrom… after we left Veslil… I said it was okay that you didn't believe in our cause. I said I wouldn't hold it against you if you left us. I was wrong. We need you. You have to stay with us. You OWE that to us! After everything you've done to the three of us! To the world! You owe that to us! Promise me! Promise me you'll help!"

Chrom smiled, and Soleil finally returned a genuine smile. "I will never leave you. Not as long as you need me. I don't know that I truly believe the world can be fixed, but I will make up for what I did by fighting with you now. I will never let anything happen to the three of you. I will protect you." Chrom again stopped resisting his emotions, and he said something he didn't necessarily mean to. "And by protecting you, guiding you, I make up for the loved ones that died by my blade."

Soleil buried her face in Chrom's shoulder again, and the two embraced each other even more tightly than before. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"No. Don't be."

"I don't hate you. I don't hate you."

"Shh. Come on. It's okay. Everything's okay."

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay."

Soleil just made occasional whimpering noises from then on, but Chrom still held her. He closed his eyes and let feelings he hadn't felt since Lucina and Brady had been alive wash over him. His mind flashed back to memories of his children, and he slowly rocked Soleil back and forth as she slowly calmed down. "I'm sorry."

"Shh. It's okay." Chrom whispered his next words so quietly that Soleil couldn't possibly have heard him. "Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."

* * *

After taking the "Grimleal Glide" over to The Saltworks and briefly conversing with the city's garrison commanders, Dartsmoth and the Deadlords took to randomly wandering the surrounding badlands. Accompanying Dartsmoth were the 4th Army reconnaissance troopers he had recruited. Each soldier had years of experience dealing with difficult terrain, and they all represented the peak of human fitness, yet they struggled to keep pace with Dartsmoth. He rarely allowed them rest, and he consumed very little food or water. It was obvious why the undead servants working with him didn't tire, but the scouts were horrified at Dartsmoth's own inhuman stamina.

For the longest time the high ranking Inquisitor seemed to do nothing more than wander the badlands, but he eventually began to walk in a straight line. Dartsmoth followed this invisible trail, ignoring the complaints of the scouts, until he came across an area filled with deceased Imperial Creeper stalks. He had the scouts investigate, and much to their own surprise they were able to find a number of anomalies. The most notable was a pile of Pegasus dung. Dartsmoth took great interest in it, studying it for several minutes. "Yeah. Because a wild Pegasus is definitely living out here." Dartsmoth chuckled as he ran his fingers through it. "I think I've found me a Pegasus Knight."

"Sir! Another piece of evidence!" Dartsmoth stood up and followed the scout to a splotch of dried blood on the ground. He knelt down as the scout hovered over him. "Think it's human blood, sir?" Dartsmoth took the hand that hadn't touched feces, the one sanitation measure he bothered with, and scraped it through the blood. He then stuck his finger into his own mouth, carefully running his tongue over it. "T-the hell you doing, sir?!"

Dartsmoth paid the scout no mind. "Mmm. Human. Male. Middle aged. This…" Dartsmoth grinned. "This is good. This is real good. I've got a message for you, Chrom. This goes for the three _bitches_ trailing after you too. Your day in the sun is over, and your insurrection is going to **_END_**!"


	29. The Woman Named Experiment Thirteen

In a chamber beneath Gangrel's throne room, a man went about hastily gathering papers and documents from what had been Kryczek's laboratory. He was the very same man that had activated E-13's neural conditioning for Kryczek over a week prior, and he had just recently heard the news of his death at Nowi Falls. The man was now concerned with getting everything ready for Kryczek's successor. Aversa was only a short distance away from Ylisstol, and Gangrel did not want anything relating to the Reaver program to be appropriated as per Black Authority. He had appointed someone else to lead Kryczek's project, and they were to extract all of Kryczek's documents and research materials and flee the palace as quickly as possible. The man worked diligently to assist in this exodus, and he was almost finished when this new director of the program walked through the door. Kryczek's former assistant stopped in place and straightened his posture as a late middle aged woman of average height and build walked into the laboratory. A man followed after her. The woman had shoulder length light blonde hair, though much of it had grayed with age, and piercing light blue eyes that seemed to shine through her wrinkled and time worn face. Notably to the man this aging, like Kryczek's own signs of fatigue, appeared to be more stress induced than natural. The woman's attire was nothing notable. She wore no more than a simple white robe lined with pockets, some of them holding writing utensils. It was the woman's behavior that stood out above anything. She immediately started to glance around Kryczek's laboratory, but not randomly. Her eyes did not lazily drift around, but were instead immediately attracted to the important and significant areas of the room. This could be her just remembering things of note from a prior visit, but the woman had an air of curiosity. Study and observation came as easily to her as air and water.

When the woman's gaze fell upon Kryczek's former assistant, he realized he'd been staring for some time. He also felt a sharp surge of fear. This woman was most likely his superior now, and he had yet to finish his assignment of gathering Kryczek's research. Yet the woman didn't appear upset with him. Instead she seemed to be studying him as she had the rest of the room. The man shifted awkwardly in place. She did move forward to greet him, but she took her time to intentionally draw out the man's nervousness, and she studied it in particular. "C-can I help you?" The man finally forced himself to say in an attempt to break the silence. He had intended to introduce himself or ask if the woman was in fact the new director, but these words refused to come to him. The woman smiled, sure now of the man's uneasiness, and didn't respond until she was finally just outside his personal space. The man behind her took position by her shoulder, crossing his arms and giving a smug look.

"Yes I believe you can. Who are you? One of Dr. Kryczek's old assistants I presume?"

"Y-yes, sir… ma'am… Director?" The woman nodded. "C-come to extract Kryczek's materials?" The woman smiled and nodded again. "R-right. My name is Pensive."

"Your actual name is Pensive?" The woman asked in a tone both curious and dismissive.

"Well that's my codename. W-we all had codenames under Kryczek. Pensive. Deep thought. Skeptic. Things along that nature."

"Well enough of that. What is your real name?"

"Bandura."

"A pleasure to meet you. I am your superior, and the new Director of the Reaver program. My name is Dr. Adrasteia. University of Scarborough. Youngest woman to ever earn a doctorate there in fact."

"Scarborough?"

"A town in southwestern Valm. Nothing much of note there besides the university." The man beside Adrasteia stepped forward. "And this is my assistant, Włotrzewiszczykowycki."

Włotrzewiszczykowycki was also physically unassuming, but he stood out for his incredibly smug expression. He had a cocky look to him, and he spoke as if he knew himself superior in every way to Bandura. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Wlot… Wlotrez… Wlotrzeskey… what was your name?!"

"You can just call me the Vice Director. Everyone does."

"Włotrzewiszczykowycki is not a doctor, but he is currently assisting me as part of his doctoral thesis. He's studying how dark magic can cause physiological changes to non magic users. His research is… quaint, but he's very helpful."

"And you report to both of us now, Bandura was it?"

"Yes, though I'm used to going by Pensive."

"Well I have intention of keeping up with Kryczek's pointless conventions. Have you finished gathering the materials I am to extract, Bandura?"

"Almost, but I can't find a few documents. I searched the archive but they weren't there! I tried going through the directory manually to two documents back but it wasn't where I had left it. Turns out someone had added another document right before I searched through it, so I had to go THREE documents back! Hmmm."

Adrasteia rolled her eyes. "It matters little. Just unlock Kryczek's personal vaults for me. I don't just wish to extract his work. I would also very much like to read over it." Adrasteia turned to the Vice Director and spoke as if talking to a child. "Włotrzewiszczykowycki, secure the materials I told you about."

The Vice Director hid his annoyance behind a cheeky grin. "Of course, Doctor. Oh if my father could see me now. He'd be so proud to know his highly educated son spends his days carrying things around like a common hummin' hedge-born widtink."

"No one ever earned a glowing performance review through back talk, Włotrzewiszczykowycki. Get to work." The Vice Director rolled his eyes and walked away, and Adrasteia turned back. "Now. On to Kryczek's vault then?"

As the Reaver program's new vice director began his task of gathering research papers and materials, Bandura lead Adrasteia to a small safe by the base of the wall. She loomed over Bandura as he undid the lock, and she was quick to shoo him out of the way and inspect the contents of the vault, but she didn't hurry to remove the items. She took her time to carefully inspect every object, as if savoring the moment. Bandura noticed, and again he wondered if she'd been here before. "Is everything alright, Director?"

"Yes. Oh everything's quite alright thank you very much." Adrasteia smiled as she took a stack of documents and handed them to Bandura. "These are definitely Kryczek's personal notes and studies. Barely touched. Everything's neat and organized, yet... " Adrasteia took out a small notebook and flipped through it. "The writings inside look as if done by a madman. This _is_ Kryczek's work. At long last. His secrets are mine."

"F-forgive me if this is out of line, Director, but did you know Kryczek personally? Have you been here before?"

Adrasteia smiled. "I see he doesn't mention me anymore. I figured. How long have you worked with Kryczek, Bandura?"

"About three years now."

"Of course. So much time has passed, yet I suspect that even those who came to work with Kryczek even immediately following my departure weren't informed of my significance to the program. You see, Bandura, Kryczek likes to take credit for developing the Reaver conditioning, but he did not work alone. I stood by his side until he had me transferred some twenty five years ago."

"You worked for Dr. Kryczek back then?"

"I worked _with_ him. Kryczek and I created the Reaver program together, but he transferred me after five years to what he thought was a pointless assignment that would lead my career into a dead end." Adrasteia briefly stopped looking through Kryczek's notebook to smile. "Considering that I was Emperor Gangrel's first choice for his successor, I think I can confidently say that he failed."

"So he covered up your work?"

"Yes. Couldn't handle that anyone would be smarter than him." Adrasteia's static facial expression was briefly moved by the memories coming back to her, and she set the notebook down on a nearby table. "Kryczek truly was a brilliant man. He was the one to conceptualize the Reavers. To take the enemies of the Grimleal and turn them into loyal enforcers of our government. It's a brilliant idea, and I'd never have been part of it without him. He brought me into the Grimleal from the University of Scarborough. I'd never have had the chance to be part of all this without him." Adrasteia grew angry, though still reserved in her expressions. "But he slowly began to realize that his protege was surpassing the master. We disagreed over what the Reaver program could be. I believed that manipulating human psychology wasn't enough. We needed to make alterations, improvements, to the bodies of our subjects to make them into perfect soldiers. Humans are rather frail after all. It is through our intelligence that we have grown to dominate this world, but this is exactly what Reavers lack. The neural conditioning makes them mindless. Sure they can be thrown into enemy defenses and used as shock troops, but they could be so much more. They could be superior to human soldiers in every way. Kryczek was a brilliant scientist, but he couldn't stand anyone being smarter than him. He had me transferred away from the program because he knew I was right, and his ego couldn't accept that. I suspected he would attempt to erase my contributions to the program and portray himself as its sole founder, and it seems I was correct." Adrasteia gave a smug look to Bandura. "Now look what has become of my Reavers. They're mindlessly unintelligent, and they have little impact against the Archanean Liberation Front or any of the other rebel groups waging war against us. The one exception is Gangrel's Chief Enforcer, and we worked on her together. By the way, where is she now?"

"Well uh, we're not sure."

"I was told that she's been declared MIA. I suppose it was too much to hope that she may have been secretly recovered." Adrasteia looked back through the safe, and she pulled out a number of documents relating to E-13. "Ah yes. Lucina the Younger. Better known as Gangrel's Chief Enforcer. To us though, she is Experiment Thirteen. Progenitor of the Reavers. She was the first human to ever successfully accept our neural conditioning, and our experiments with her allowed us to perfect it. What exactly do you know of her, Bandura?"

"Well she's stronger than all the other Reavers. A lot stronger. Kryczek also showed me how to trigger her programming, and I reset her just before her last deployment in fact."

"But what do you truly know of her? Do you know why she's superior to the newer Reavers? Why she's named Experiment Thirteen?"

"N-no. Kryczek had all of that information classified, and I didn't have the clearance."

Adrasteia laughed to herself. "Yes. E-13 always was special to Kryczek. He seemed to want to hide her away from the rest of the Grimleal as much as he could. I think she meant more to him than she did to the Emperor. You see, all the Reavers were supposed to be as independent and skilled as she was."

"I find that hard to believe."

"She is so different from the other Reavers yes, but that's only because we conditioned her throughout the entirety of her life. It was always Kryczek's plan to create a kind of neural conditioning that could be applied to anyone, but what he ultimately managed to create is subpar. No regular Reaver can match E-13's ability, which leads me back to my original point. We must alter human psychology and physiology to make the Reavers effective." Adrasteia removed all of the papers, documents, and containers in Kryczek's safe, leaving nothing besides a final notebook and a bottle. Curious, Adrasteia took the bottle from the safe and inspected it. "Hmm. It's wine. Ylissean vintage from 2609 Archanean Calendar. The year Gangrel went to war with Emmeryn. The year the Shepherds found Robin. This couldn't be cheap." Adrasteia noticed a note attached to the bottle and read aloud. "To Kryczek. To be opened upon your first big breakthrough. Love… Mom."

Adrasteia was briefly moved by the note. The sudden reminder that Kryczek was a normal man with a family once. "I guess he never thought that he made any major breakthroughs." Bandura stated.

"Kryczek may have been an egotistical man, but he was good at self criticism. He could always see the flaws in his work, and he knew that the Reaver program wasn't what it should be. Of course he'll never get the opportunity to improve the Reaver programming now, but that's what I'm here for." Adrasteia set the wine down and retrieved the notebook. Her face was finally taken by a genuine expression of glee as she held the dusty, worn item in her hands. "Kryczek's personal notebook. This wasn't for official documentation. No, no. This was for his personal thoughts. Everything we take is of use to me, but this is what I truly need to understand his thought processes. He wrote in this back when we worked together. There's probably over thirty years of data in this." Adrasteia eagerly flipped to the end, and her grin widened as she noticed writing throughout the entire notebook. "And he continued to write until the end of his life. Excellent. Fear not my old mentor. Your apprentice has come to patch your promising but oh so flawed work, and what you started will not just be finished, but improved." Adrasteia turned back to Bandura. "Would you like to know more about Experiment Thirteen? What Kryczek wouldn't tell you?"

"Well… uh… can you do that?"

"I am now the highest ranking science officer in the Grimleal. I can do whatever I please with any information relating to the Reaver programming. Experiment Thirteen is named as such because she was only one of several test subjects. There were thirteen in total. Just as the Grimleal found Lucina the Younger among the corpses of the Shepherds, the other infant children were recovered alongside her. They were raised by Grimleal handlers until they were turned over to Kryczek and I."

"S-so the other experiments were-"

"Yes. The other children. Owain became E-1. Cynthia became E-2. Gerome, E-3. Severa, E-4. Morgan, E-5. Inigo, E-6. Nah, E-7. Kjelle, E-8. Noire, E-9. Brady, E-10. Laurent, E-11. Yarne. E-12. Of course, Lucina was designated as E-13. Do you know why?"

"No?"

"The Emperor made a special request. Have you ever seen that ridiculous 'Shepherd Slayer' outfit he wears? He took a trophy off of all the bodies, but he never got one for Chrom. That's why I believe he asked that Lucina specifically be made into some kind of mindless servant. She is his trophy for Chrom. We tried telling the Emperor that the test subjects used to develop the neural conditioning required would likely die, but he wanted us to make her into the first Reaver. The future witness, turned into a symbol of the Grimleal and the military we were creating. We had no choice but to experiment on her to develop the Reaver programming, but we knew the Emperor would be furious if anything happened to her. That's why we made her Experiment Thirteen. We performed the more dangerous experiments on the other children first. After all, the Emperor made no requests of them."

Bandura began to realize what Adrasteia was saying. "I never heard of these other experiments. They didn't make it… did they?"

"Sacrifices had to be made. To ensure that we could push Experiment Thirteen to the limit without breaking her, we pushed the other children past their limits so that we knew when to stop with her. Kryczek didn't initially see things my way, however. He envisioned all of the children growing up to be Reavers. He implored that we find other test subjects, but why bother? We had children right here, and we knew from the actions of their older selves that they all had the capacity to be physically capable. One by one I performed my tests on them."

"W-what kind of tests?"

Adrasteia shrugged. "Over exercise. Starvation. Physical and psychological abuse. Exposure to hazardous environments. Poisoning. Over stimulus. Strenuous mental tasks. Combat training. One by one I tested them until they finally died or broke down from one thing or another, and then I knew how much I could do to E-13 before she broke. We worked to make her as strong as any human could be from infancy."

"Your experiments killed all the others?!"

"Not true. All but six. E-7 and E-12 were unsuitable for testing the Reaver conditioning. Their bloodlines were impure, and anything that applied to them wouldn't necessarily apply to a normal human. I had them executed. E-1, E-2, E-3, and E-4 survived my initial experiments. Kryczek had me barred from the program before I could continue."

"You make it sound like he got rid of you because of these horrible experiments!"

Adrasteia just laughed. "It was all for the good of E-13. I sacrificed the others so that she would be safe. Society is built on these sacrifices. Soldiers sacrifice enemy soldiers so that they aren't killed. The justice system sacrifices the lives and well being of criminals to save those that they'd otherwise harm. Animals in nature even sacrifice weaker children to save the stronger ones. Besides, if Kryczek really did care about them, they'd still be alive."

Adrasteia flipped through the notebook until she found a specific section she'd been looking for. Again she read aloud. "20th of April, 2626 Archanean Calendar. Today has been a difficult day. E-1 did not survive the application of Reaver programming. The actual procedure did not kill him, but he was left in a state of catatonic brain death. I had to have him euthanized. Gods I've become little better than Adrasteia. I'd be lying if I said she didn't make significant contributions to my work. She was an intelligent pupil, but she has no regard for ethical constraints or rational behaviour. She was a monster. I didn't see that when I met her in Scarborough, but what she did to the children made it clear to me." Adrasteia again chuckled at her former mentor's words. "But perhaps she just realized how horrible our work truly is long before I was able to. Gangrel would have my head if any harm came to E-13, so I am forced to test the application of the neural conditioning on the other Experiments. I worked to save them from Adrasteia all those years ago, but now they are once again used as expendable test subjects. What have I become? What happened to the boy who always asked questions and sought to learn about the world around him? What happened to the teenager who wanted to use science to better the world? What happened to that young man who stood proudly with his parents as he graduated from the University of Themis? Oh mother and father. If you could see me now, would you be proud of me… or horrified?

E-13 turns fifteen years old today. She's so beautiful. Strong and stubborn and determined. I see now why her elder self persevered even after so much. I love her. She is the granddaughter you never got to meet, mother and father. Her life will not be easy. Gangrel will use her as little more than a tool, and she will be little more than a tool, but she is a hero. The Reaver program could be the salvation of humanity. Someday we will take society's brigands, assassins, rapists, conartists, terrorists, rebels, and dissidents and turn them into loyal enforcers. We will use them against others who would destroy the order we've brought to the world. To take your enemy and turn them into an ally? What greater weapon is there than that? If all those in society who would cause conflict are turned to Reavers, there would be no more war. Imagine it. For the first time our bestial and savage race will be free of infighting. For the first time all of our resources could go to curing diseases. Ending poverty. Creating technological advancements. Helping the people of our society achieve self actualization, provided that doesn't harm others or society. It would be a glorious utopia. Even if what I have become now would terrify you, mother and father, you would be proud of me if you could just see the world I'll create. You'd be so proud.

E-13 is the beginning of the Reaver program. She will be little more than a mindless slave in her lifetime, but she will help create this future for humanity. Someday historians will see her as a hero. _This_ Lucina, not her elder self, will be the one people remember. I just wish that all the children could have lived, but I have no choice. I must sacrifice the other Experiments to make the application of Reaver programming as safe as possible for E-13. When I have finally turned her into a Reaver, I will then be able to apply the neural conditioning to other people. I have to do this for the Reaver program. I know that what I'm doing is wrong, but it's for a greater good. That's what I tell myself. I think back to the heroes of my youth. Walhart. Emmeryn. Chrom. Even Gangrel when he was younger. These men and women were all doers. They worked to change the world for the better. Chrom especially. He didn't hide behind armies or bureaucracy. He personally fought to help the world. Surely these heroes occasionally had to do horrible things, but it was all for the greater good of humanity. That's what I believe. I am the Director of the Reaver program, so I take responsibility for all the evils done under it. I am not just taking and following orders. I do all of this evil willingly, but I do it for the greater good. The Reaver program has done horrible things, but someday it will save humanity. I may very well rot in hell for the things I've done, but someday humanity will live in a better world because of me. Someday historians will know why I did everything I've done, and they'll know how important E-13 is. Forgive me, Naga. Forgive me, mother and father. Forgive me, my younger self. I know I'm not a good man, but sacrifices had to be made. I will continue to experiment on the others. I can only hope that they survive, but they may not. Someday the world will be a better place for my work, and what scientist could ask for more. I'm doing this for the greater good." Adrasteia closed the notebook and gave Bandura a very self assured expression, as if the notebook had proved something in her mind. "Do you know why I'm telling you these things, Bandura?"

"N-no, Director."

"Kryczek said I was no scientist because I did not care for ethics, but he was too attached to the Experiments. He couldn't overcome a primitive desire for a mate and offspring, and they were the children he never had. He became biased, and so his work cannot be called science. I am telling you all of this to show that things will be different under me. I will not continue Kryczek's flawed practices. I will make the Reaver program what it should have been. Now fetch me the records of E-13's last deployment. We need to find her."

* * *

Within a small building known only to Courtney and the Inquisitors still with him, E-13 slowly stumbled out of her cage. She was still naked, her head injury was still untreated save for the now very filthy bandages around it, and she still hadn't eaten. Inquisitor St. John again stood in front of a slice of cheese. E-13 paced back and forth in front of her cage. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to rush for the cheese. She was starving now, and it overrode any fear she had of pain. She did not fear St. John or his now bloodied riding whip, but she knew she wasn't strong enough to get past him. St. John was bigger than her, and hunger had been sapping her strength. St. John stood ready, carefully monitoring her every move. "Come on, girl. You want breakfast? You gotta come get it."

E-13 shot a glare of raw hatred at St. John for about a minute, then darted after the cheese without any further warning. St. John moved to block her, but she quickly moved to the side and unexpectedly charged after him instead. The Inquisitor didn't react in time to dodge, and E-13 tackled him to the ground and started pounding on his face as hard as her energy deprived muscles allowed her to. Behind a glass wall, Courtney and Inquisitor Federov watched intently. Federov's eyes were filled with horror, but Courtney's look of sadistic delight could be seen even through the small openings of his mask. "Ooh. She's mad alright."

"Please, Courtney! How long will you torture her?!"

"I'm toughening her up! She'll take the cheese if she wants it bad enough. You don't have to watch, you know. All you do is whine and complain."

Courtney turned back to see that St. John was still grappling with E-13. She was undoubtedly a more vicious fighter than he was, and she didn't react at all to his attempts to drive her back, but E-13 just didn't have the strength to really hurt him. After unsuccessfully trying to fend her off through hair pulling and eye gouging, St. John finally grabbed her abdomen and threw E-13 off of him. She threw herself back to her feet almost instantly, but she wasn't able to get to him before the Inquisitor retrieved the riding whip. He had to strike E-13 almost twenty five times before she finally gave up, but the pain did eventually overwhelm her. She finally fell to her knees, her tear and blood stained eyes gazing longingly at the cheese. Courtney shook his head and signaled to Rayhanah, who was still by E-13's cage. "Nope. She's not getting it. Put her back."

"Please, Courtney! She'll starve."

"There's no place in the Grimleal for weaklings."

"This isn't right!"

"If you like her so much, Federov, maybe I'll let you stay there with her. Assuming she don't eat you of course." Federov considered the possibility, briefly terrified that E-13 might actually try to kill and eat him. Courtney continued to leer at his comrade before his personal farakveða tome began to glow and hum with energy. "Ah, hell. I'm being hailed. I knew they'd remember me eventually."

"Is it the Emperor? What do we tell him?!"

"That don't matter! What does matter is what I'm tellin you, and I'm telling you to shut your trap!" Courtney responded to the communication. To his surprise, the image of a woman flickered before him.

"Operations Commander Courtney, I presume?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Your new boss. Director Kryczek is dead, Operations Commander. I am the new Director of the Reaver program, and you are now attached to me. My name is Dr. Adrasteia. University of Scarborough. Youngest woman to ever earn a doctorate from there in fact."

Courtney briefly glanced around. "Uhh, wrong number."

"Please, Operations Commander. I know you're likely hiding out in the middle of nowhere in light of your failure, but I have no desire to punish you. After all, the Fell Dragon's orders to the Emperor still stand. You haven't truly failed. Not yet."

"So what do you want?"

"What Kryczek lost. Do you know where E-13 is now? We know she's not dead."

"What if I did know?"

"Please, Courtney. We're not enemies. I just want to recover her."

"And then turn me into Gangrel?"

"No. I have no reason to antagonize you. I only seek to make E-13 stronger."

Courtney paused, pleasantly surprised. "Stronger?"

"Things are going to change. Kryczek held the Reavers back, and he held E-13 back. I'm going to make them into what they should have always been."

"On that we're agreed. The way I see it, she's a wild animal. We have to let her off her leash."

Adrasteia's hologram stared inquisitively at Courtney. "I don't know that I'd use that analogy, but I'm fascinated you see things my way, even through your very limited contact with E-13. I have no interest in returning E-13 to the Emperor. Not yet. I seek to make improvements to her. Improvements that may one day be applied to all the Reavers. We'll make her the strongest warrior this planet has ever known, and then we will show her to the Emperor. Help me with this, Courtney, and it will more than make up for your inability to complete your mission."

"Hmm. What kind of improvements?"

"It's far too complicated to explain over a transmission like this, but I've known E-13 as long as Kryczek has. Though I haven't seen her since she was five years old, I've been thinking of how the Reavers could be improved for years. Just let me see her, Courtney. This will be good for both of us.

Back in the other room, St. John and Rayhanah stood over E-13. She had since passed into unconsciousness from the pain and stress, but her mind was far from inactive. The severe abuse she had suffered through the past several days was changing her. Her Reaver conditioning suppressed her ability to remember her missions and learn new things, but now her mind was beginning to flash back. She was reliving memories she didn't know she had. One in particular stuck with her. Made her experience feelings she'd never relived since childhood, and she didn't understand why. It was a memory of a middle aged man. He had a dark blue work shirt, worn trousers, and a strange birthmark on his right shoulder. His hair was largely gray, but some of it was the same color as E-13's own hair. She remembered a vicious battle with him, and she remembered him throwing her against a wall. She had been stunned after that, but now her mind was reliving what followed. She remembered that he held her in his arms, and he said things. Now in a similar state of stupor, E-13 remembered the exact words. Words that brought her pain, but not like the kind she was used to. It was a bitter, soul crushing feeling in her stomach, as if she'd lost someone important to her. She remembered he said, "But I'll never stop loving you. I don't care what they do to you. Please know, deep down, that you'll always have me. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know what you're like. But I love you. You… you deserve more from me than one sword and a world of troubles. I'll always love you, and nothing will ever change that. I'll always be here for you."


	30. The Old and New Regimes

Though the terrain surrounding Isaiah's homestead brought him constant pain as a reminder of how far the world had fallen, it was rather beautiful in an eerie way to impartial observers. Isaiah lived just north of the border between the Plegian and West Feroxi Administration Zones, right in the heart of the West Feroxi Badlands. These badlands were more diverse than the Ylissean counterpart. Though both areas are characterized by the lack of soil or vegetation, the Ylissean Badlands are flatter, save for a few mesas, and still receive rainfall. By contrast, large swaths of Ferox had been barren before Grima's Blight made the world so, and as such these badlands were more natural. Much of this land was cut apart by canyons, ravines, and gullies. Though the area surrounding The Saltworks was largely flat, these impressive geologic formations could easily be seen in the distance. The land itself offered a spectacular presentation of colors. One one end of the spectrum, some of it was a dark black or blue from coal stria. In the middle, some of the land was bright yellow, brown, and tan from clays. Finally, scoria from volcanoes millions of years dead gave some of this land a deep red color. It was truly a sight to behold, but Isaiah couldn't see this beauty. To him, it was all a tribute to what the Shepherds had failed to prevent.

Isaiah knelt before his house and ran his hand along the ground. There was a thin layer of sand, shale, and clay that had blown in from the more desert like Death Valley on the surface of the ground. This was less than a centimeter deep. Past that was about five or six centimeters of shale, clumped together in popcorn like balls. Beyond that was just bedrock, and this layer extended all the way down to the planet's molten mantle. This lack of regolith was the defining feature of all badlands. It took Isaiah very little effort to force his fingers down to the bedrock, and his face contorted with sadness as his course and calloused fingers caressed this layer of rock. Most humans never even saw bedrock. Their feet trod on life giving dirt and soil. This is what made farming possible. It was what made human civilization possible, and farmers like Isaiah had dedicated their lives to working it. Now the Blight had eaten away the plants responsible for keeping the soil firmly in place, and rain and wind had washed it into oblivion. Now the Earth was scarred and naked, as it was before any life called it home. Plants were becoming the stuff of legends and fables to the younger generations not living in the fertile Grimleal controlled areas, and Isaiah wouldn't see any living things on his property if he didn't live on the edges of the Fungal Lands. The Fell Dragon was erasing life itself, and Isaiah couldn't help but wonder if humanity, and especially his own family, was just living on borrowed time.

Isaiah became lost in thought as he pondered the dying Earth, and several minutes went by before he withdrew his hand at the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned to find Gaius standing behind him, an arquebus in his hands. This wasn't Gaius' own weapon. It was shorter, only about a meter long, and it notably lacked a trigger. It relied on a matchlock firing mechanism, and the gun was braced against the chest rather than the shoulder when fired. The weapon was also dirty and a bit rusty from improper maintenance. Gaius held it up and smiled. "Well look at that. Good ol' handcannon. I haven't seen one of these in twenty years. This yours?"

Isaiah's face twisted with annoyance, and he began to remember why he and Gaius weren't particularly close thirty years prior. He was also annoyed by the suggestion that the firearm was old. It was cutting edge technology when he purchased it twenty five years ago, but the Grimleal and its enemies' constant need for more destructive weaponry had the consequence of considerably accelerated weapon developments. New advances in gunpowder weapons were being made every year, and Isaiah's handcannon was already a relic of the past. "Where did you find that?!"

Gaius shrugged. "It was just in the back of a closet. Thing doesn't look like it's been touched in years."

"Put it back."

"Wait hold on. Can I ask you something?"

"Put it back!"

"But-"

"Put it back now you damned thief!" Gaius stepped back, and Isaiah rose to his feet. "The nerve of you! I invite you in here out of the goodness of my heart and you think you can just run yer paws through my things? Ever hear of something called privacy? I'm fixin' to teach you some manners!"

"Huh?!"

"And how dare you say my fire stick is old! It shoots bullets don't it?! What makes it worse than any new fangled banger?! Argh! I hate these gol' dang guns! A sword was a sword. A spear was a spear. But there's all these different kinds of guns, and every year they make some bigger, louder thing. If you go to the bathroom for five dang ol' seconds they'll have made a new one by the time yer finished! By the time I'm old and gray they'll be big ones with a hundred barrels shooting a thousand bullets a second! It's horse dung! These weapons are monstrous! Ripping through skin and shattering bone and severing limbs! All at the lighting of a match! War was always rough but now it's some kind of nightmare! There ain't no honor in it no more! It's just like what the world has become, you know?! Everything's shot to hell! The land is dead! The Grimleal enslaves us all! I have to work myself silly just to raise a family! I'm struggling just to survive, and now I have to worry about some thief rummaging through my things like a hog through slop?! I'm fit to be tied up I'll tell you what! Put that back! NOW!"

Gaius was taken aback by Isaiah's frustration, and his own face tensed up. "Yeesh! Calm down, Tinhead! I'm sorry!"

Isaiah calmed down and shivered as he suppressed the sorrow and frustration inside of him. "No I'm sorry. I was just… I was just thinking about what the world has become, and you caught me at a bad time. I'm sorry."

Gaius gave his old ally a more understanding look and stepped closer to him. "Want to talk about it?"

"No. It's fine. What did you want to ask?"

"Oh yeah." Gaius held up the archaic arquebus, admiring its features. "I was wondering if you had any spare powder and shot? We could use it for our weapons, unless you need it of course."

"No. That's fine. I haven't fired that thing in years. I should have some spare gunpowder and bullets around here somewhere."

"What'd you get this thing for?"

"Hunting. Self defense. I don't know. Things got so chaotic when the Grimleal was rising to power. I just felt I needed something to keep my family safe, and those new fangled things seemed so powerful." Isaiah sat down on the ground and sighed. "Course nobody came for me way out here, and there ain't no animals to hunt. It's been seven or eight years since I've seen an animal on my property. They're all gone. They probably migrated or starved to death."

"No animals?"

"Not even birds no more. Not even birds."

"Oh." Gaius looked out over the badlands, and he tried to imagine how hard the sight must have been to a farmer. "Well thanks for the supplies, Tinhead."

"Yeah."

Isaiah just stared blankly off into the distance, and Gaius didn't want to leave him like that. He slowly walked over to him and sat down, groaning as he settled onto the sand. "Oof. Oh that's not comfortable."

"You get used to it."

"Donnel… Isaiah… whatever." Gaius took a deep breath. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just scraping by. I've lost a wife and two daughters. Half my diet is mushrooms. I was on the losing side of a war and now my enemies have taken over the whole world. My kids won't be able to be farmers like I was when they grow up. Yeah, Gaius, I'm doing just fine." Isaiah muttered in a grim tone.

"Well you've certainly hardened."

"Who hasn't in this world." Isaiah almost smiled. "Except for maybe you. You've gotten more sensitive. Where's that thief who didn't care for no one else back then gone?"

"You take that back!"

"Aw come on, Gaius. You seem more attached to Chrom then you used to be. I don't remember you ever giving me this kind of time."

Gaius thought about it. "Just because you didn't know me well back then doesn't mean I didn't care about anyone. I had friends, and I had a wife and daughters too. But… I guess you're right. It's just that I've been alone for thirty years. I thought I was okay with it. Seeing Chrom again… getting to know him better… I just can't take my friends for granted now. I don't want to be… alone again." Isaiah looked at Gaius for a long time, just staring at him until Gaius started to scowl. "Uhh… Tinhead?"

"What exactly did you do for thirty years, Gaius?"

Gaius was silent for almost a minute, but he spoke just before Isaiah decided to give up. "I suppose I should be honest with you, but are you sure you want to know? It's not pretty."

Isaiah hesitated, but he eventually nodded. "Yes."

"Alright." Gaius leaned back into his arms and spoke calmly. "I was an assassin."

"You k-killed people for a living?!" Isaiah choked out.

"That is what assassin means."

"A-anyone?!"

"Anyone I was paid to."

"No wonder you know so much about guns. No one touches those things for no reason."

"To be honest they do freak me out, but they make the job easier. Especially since my body eventually had to pay the check all those sweets I ate as a young man wrote."

"And it makes the act of killing easier don't it?"

"Yeah."

"How… how could you?"

"With surprising ease. I never wanted to take a life as a thief, but Chrom and Robin asked me fight when I joined the Shepherds. As if I were any other soldier. Killing got easier and easier, and I found my combat skills could help me survive as the Grimleal began to take over everything. I'd have to work constantly to make a living if I had remained a thief, but as an assassin? Much easier. Each job paid very well, and in a twisted way society looks on hired guns more favorably than it does thieves. The men in charge hate the idea of losing their property, but they know damn well how important it is to remove your enemies. I'm not proud of it, but I was willing to do anything to survive."

"So you could kill innocent people-"

"Woah. A lot of them can't really be called innocent-"

"Innocent people because Chrom and Robin had you fight in the Shepherds?! How does that make sense? The enemies we fought back then were bad folk."

"Were they? All of them? Did every brigand, and Plegian, and Valmese soldier really deserve death? Don't you think some of them were just trying to get by? Fighting the Grimleal and the Risen was another story, but the actual killing was still rough. It affected me, Donnel… err, Isaiah. It made it possible for me to kill anyone my employers asked me to. I wasn't proud of it. I'm not proud of it. But… I could do it."

"And… meeting Chrom changed you. Made you give it all up? Seeing him again made you want to help save the world, right then and there?"

"Uhh… lets just go with that. Yeah, sure."

"Huh. That's… that's a pretty inspiring story, Gaius."

"Nothing about my life is inspiring."

"No really. You gave up being a thief to help the world. Sure you became something ugly to survive after things got bad, but now you're helping the world again. I reckon your life has more meaning than you think it does." Isaiah stared back out into the badlands, but a faint smile crept across his face. "And I guess Chrom's story is still pretty inspiring too."

"He is a good man."

"But he's not perfect."

"Well we know that better than anyone. In fact I try to remind him of it. I made him tell the three young women the truth of what he did."

"He didn't tell them?"

"Of course not. I almost don't blame him, but they deserved to know. I'm helping him now, but not just by fighting with him. I'm also helping him by reminding him that he can make mistakes. By keeping him grounded. I know he founded the Shepherds, but I think it revolved around him too much. Maybe if things had been more equal, something could have been done to prevent what happened. Maybe something could have changed. This group now is more equal, Tinhead. We're all in this fight together, and we really trust each other now."

"Really?" Isaiah contemplated what he was hearing, and he couldn't help but feel that anger he had long hidden inside of him was fading. "Maybe he has changed."

"Oh yeah, but the good parts of him are still in there. He just wants to help." Gaius stood up and took a few steps back towards the house. "Anyways, thanks for the powder and shot. I won't take too much."

"Don't worry." Isaiah said as he rose to his own feet. "I really don't think I'll be needing it anymore."

Gaius smiled back, but he heard sounds of an argument. He turned to see Chrom and Henry some distance away. "Blue and Junior? Blue sounds angry."

Isaiah looked over and also noticed them. "Are they fighting?"

"I guess we should find out."

* * *

Chrom looked warily at Henry as the dark mage knelt in front of a small mushroom, seemingly testing some kind of curse on it. Chrom had no idea what he was really doing, and he didn't want to know. Though he fought with the Shepherds after Chrom helped convince him to leave the Plegian army, Chrom didn't really know much about Henry. The two hadn't interacted much, not even after becoming brothers-in-law. Chrom had always heard whisperings and murmurings, both positive and negative in meaning, about Henry's capacity for violence and his lack of empathy, but he never thought much about it. He only cared that Henry was a loyal and helpful member of the Shepherds, and he was too focused with the war.

But now, far away from the immediate danger of the Arch Surg, Chrom's mind was pulled back to the revelation Mustafa had shared with him. Henry had created the curse the Arch Surg leadership used to forcibly recruit followers, and he had likely used his dark magic for all manner of Arch Surg atrocities. Of course Henry himself couldn't be bothered to care. He tortured and brutalized without question for the rebel movement, and he just as easily turned on them when he no longer cared to stay. No one seemed to matter to him. No one except his granddaughter. Chrom had eyed Henry closely since the escape, and he noticed how close he wanted to be with Ophelia. Ophelia had the potential to be as powerful a mage as Henry, Lissa, or Emmeryn ever were, and Henry knew this. The thought shook Chrom to the bone. He couldn't allow Ophelia to end up like Henry. A hero of Exalted blood could not be some killing machine and little more. As much as Chrom wanted Henry's help, he couldn't let his grandniece become something so monstrous.

Chrom approached Henry cautiously, and he moved so quietly that Henry wasn't aware of him until he was only about a meter away. Henry gave his characteristic cheery expression when he looked up at Chrom, then returned to experimenting on the mushroom. Before Chrom could say anything, the mushroom started to glow a bright blue. Henry stood up and smiled triumphantly, "Ha! I knew I could do it!"

Chrom turned away from the mushroom as it continued to glow. "What exactly did you do?"

"I noticed some of the fungi nearby glowed, so I wondered if I could artificially induce this bioluminescence on other mushrooms. Apparently I can! I can't wait to get some people to try this on!"

"You'd make a man glow like that?!"

"Why not?" The mushroom continued to glow brighter and brighter until it finally exploded into flame. Chrom winced at the sight, and Henry just shrugged as he turned to see the mess. "Huh. I guess it still needs work."

"Gods above! Did you really think it'd be okay to do this with people?!"

"Well yeah. I'd have to test my spells on people if I want them to work on people. That's basic mage stuff right there."

"What about the ethical problems of doing that to a person?!"

"Ethical problems?"

Chrom found himself afraid of Henry, but he steeled himself. A part of him wondered if anyone had ever confronted Henry about the nature of his actions, or if people had been too terrified. Regardless, he couldn't let Ophelia learn this behavior. "You don't care about anyone else do you? It's all a joke to you isn't it?"

"What do you mean? I care that my spells and curses actually work on people. That's why I test them. Is that what you meant?"

"No! I mean you don't care about the suffering you bring on others!"

"Should I?"

"YES!"

Henry shrugged. "But we're soldiers. We inflict pain and suffering as part of our jobs."

"But that doesn't have to come at the expense of our humanity."

Henry's cheery look was starting to fade, but he wasn't angry. He just seemed confused. "What is this about, brother-in-law?"

Chrom's mood soured as he was made to think of his younger sister. "Lissa has been gone a long time now, Henry. Are we really still in laws?"

"Til death do us part!"

"That's for the married couple."

"Well anyways, what did you need?"

Chrom stood up straight, and he fought against the feelings welling up inside of him. Some parts of him were actually wary of any confrontation with Henry. Some parts of him were still racked with guilt over what had happened to Henry's wife and children. Chrom suppressed all of it. He had to do this for the family member still living. "Henry… have you been trying to teach Ophelia dark magic? Have you been trying to make her… more like you?"

"A little. I haven't really been able to teach her anything she doesn't already know, but I've shown her what she could do." Henry gave a wide grin. "She's got such a natural talent!"

"And what have you shown her?"

"Simple stuff. Burning people. Electrifying people. Rending flesh. Generating heat." Chrom's eyes widened, but Henry didn't notice or otherwise care. "What else… what else… oh yeah! I told her about that curse I did to the Arch Surg. How I made them mindlessly loyal for awhile. Stuff like that is way past her ability now, but she'll get there."

"So you were responsible for that."

"Did I not tell you? Huh. Thought I did. Anyways yeah, I sure was!"

"So you just cursed random people? Made them abandon their lives and work as slaves for the Arch Surg?"

"Sort of. Some of them were Grimleal or Arch Surg soldiers with histories of disobedience and reprimands. Some of them were random people."

"And this atrocity didn't affect you at all did it?"

"That's not true. I thought it was fun to come up with such a challenging curse."

"Fun." Chrom said bitterly. "You know what, Henry, Ophelia's not going to _get there_. I don't want you teaching her this dark magic."

Henry's smile faded, but he still looked more confused than offended. "Huh? Why not?"

"Because I don't want her to end up-"

"Like… me."

"Y...yeah." Henry just stared blankly at Chrom for a few seconds, and Chrom grew increasingly nervous. Was Henry on the verge of exploding? Was he thinking about it? The worry was eating away at him. "Henry?"

"You… you think dark magic is evil?"

"I don't like the way you use it."

"Look I know I've always been different, but why would she be like that? I didn't grow up with my parents, and I wasn't really close to anyone. When I joined the army, they encouraged me to be violent. I can't help it, but dark magic is a natural thing! It exists to help people!"

"Like helping the Arch Surg enslave people's minds? Like helping to kill and torture? Is that what you call helping?"

"I'm helping you aren't I?"

"W-well yeah… but-" Chrom steadied himself. "I don't want Ophelia learning that kind of magic! It's not right!"

"So I won't teach her any mind altering curses."

"You won't teach her any curses!"

Henry's voice remained calm, but he gave a more determined expression than Chrom had ever seen him make. "Well… you can't really stop me."

"Excuse me?"

"This isn't an army. You're not my superior anymore, and Ophelia is closer to me than she is to you."

"She is of Exalted blood."

"So you own her?"

"N-no! That's not… surely you see why I'm concerned."

"No not really. Look I'm sorry you're so worried, but there is nothing wrong with dark magic. I just want her to realize her potential!"

"She's not going to end up like you! You butcher, torture, and inflict terrible suffering on people and you think it's funny! What you did for the Arch Surg is beyond unacceptable, and you act like it's just another misadventure for you! Even thirty years ago, many of the Shepherds were afraid of you! At the very least they just accepted you because they didn't want your strength being used against us! Henry… thank you for everything you've done for us… but Ophelia isn't going to end up like you."

"So she should end up dead like Lissa or Emmeryn? Or should she end up like you? You talk a lot about your family's Exalted blood, well most of your family didn't die by the hands of any dark mage. They died by your blade. What is Ophelia supposed to learn from you then?"

Chrom gritted his teeth, trying desperately to contain his growing anger. Henry's voice was still calm, but Chrom could tell the animosity between the two was now mutual. "I'm putting my foot down on this, Henry."

"Alright. I'll just go around you then."

"Surely-" Chrom was almost tripping over his words now. "Surely you realize why I'm worried!"

"You Ylisseans, always afraid of anything Plegian. The only reason your people fear dark magic is because it's what has given Plegia the strength to maintain its independence from your conquering empire."

"This has nothing to do with ethnicity! I won't allow her to become evil!"

"What is evil? What is evil?! What is good? I don't see the man standing before me now as any kind of symbol of goodness. I see him as a bitter, controlling man, old before his time, that's upset because his granddaughter won't be exactly like him. Is that why you accepted Lucina so readily? Because she was a girl version of you! The Exalts really did create a very monocultural state didn't they? You don't want me around Ophelia because you're afraid she'll be too different from you."

"That's not fair!"

"What about this conversation is fair?!"

"What the hell is going on here?!" Chrom groaned as he turned to find Gaius and Isaiah approaching. It was clear to Chrom that Gaius just couldn't entirely let go of his resentment towards him, as it was immediately clear from his body language that he assumed Chrom to be in the wrong. On the other hand, Chrom hadn't realized just how loud he'd gotten. "Blue? Junior? Come on now?"

"Oh hey, guys!" Henry said, his voice reverting back to its default cheery tone. "Chrom and I were just reminiscing about good times, though I guess he doesn't agree that they were good."

"Why are you two fighting?!" Gaius gave a harsh look to Chrom. "And your voice is a lot louder than Junior's. What's wrong with you?"

"Henry never yells."

"Stop dodging the point."

Chrom scowled as he tried to focus on what he believed to be a sympathetic point. What he thought needed to be done to protect Ophelia. "Gaius… do you know exactly why a civil war broke out back at the Arch Surg fort?"

"Because Henry lifted some kind of curse he'd placed on the soldiers. I overheard what Mustafa told you. It is messed up." Gaius briefly turned to Henry. "I mean it's really messed up, Junior."

"Hey thanks! I do get that a lot."

"But… Henry has always been like this. Why are you upset now?"

"I don't want him teaching Ophelia to be like this. I don't want him… I don't know…"

"Corrupting her?" Henry said, a genuinely hurt expression gradually overcoming his smile.

"I wouldn't put it that way."

Gaius stepped closer to Henry. "Oh don't act like you're trying to be understanding. I think I get what you're saying, Blue, but Ophelia is a mage. Who else could teach her?"

"Couldn't Henry just teach her normal spells?"

"That's not really how magic works. There are different kinds, and dark magic is perfectly normal." Henry interrupted.

"What's normal about anything you've done?"

Gaius shook his head. "You know it just sounds like you're trying to control how he can spend time with Ophelia. What gives you that right? You're not our leader." Chrom seemed briefly puzzled, and that brief expression infuriated Gaius. "Oh you thought you were weren't you?"

"Am… am I not?"

"Oh-hoh now I get it. Now I see! Y-you think that we're just your soldiers again! That you can control us again! I thought this was a partnership, but oh boy was I wrong to think that the Exalt would ever allow himself to be treated *gasp* _equally_ with us commoners!"

"Gaius, that's not-"

"Look, Chrom, Henry was always like this. The only reason it didn't bother you back then is because you didn't get to know him. You recruited him into the Shepherds, but then you never spent two minutes with him. Now that you're forced to spend time with him, you're realizing 'Oh, he's very different from me. I'm scared for my sheltered royal butt!' How is that fair?!"

"I'm worried for Ophelia!"

"She's not yours! Don't tell me you care about family when you're trying to tell Henry he shouldn't spend time with the one family member he has left! You were never a leader! Not even back then! You were a boss!"

"W-what's the… what?"

"A leader leads with his men. A boss just gives orders. Commands. A boss doesn't know anything about his men."

"I was there the whole time!"

"But you took all of us for granted! Robin made time to get to know all of us! ALL OF US! Even Gangrel and Walhart! You didn't. You didn't care. You didn't care about Henry. You didn't care about Cordelia. Now you're pretending to care about Ophelia, or Caeldori, or… the shrieky one? Don't make me laugh!"

Isaiah didn't really want to get involved, but he did nod along with some of the things Gaius said. "Yeah Robin did take the time to get to know us all. Why didn't you?"

Chrom looked around. Gaius was almost twitching with anger, Isaiah gave an unsympathetic look, and Henry just blankly stared back. "Why are you all turning against me?!"

"We're just reminding you of what you've taken from all of us!" Gaius shouted. "We all lost our families to you, and now you're daring to tell Henry how he can spend time with the one family member you didn't take from him. You are so full of crap! You're so used to everything revolving around you! Everyone fawned over you from the moment you were born, and it created such arrogance in you! Emmeryn wanted Ylisse to be peaceful, and you make an armed militia behind her back!"

"It wasn't behind her back!"

"Well she only supported it because you were her brother. You abused that trust! You didn't agree with her, but of course things always go your way. Lissa takes after you more than she does Emmeryn. She joins your militia and does whatever you told her to. Of course Emmeryn eventually got crippled, so you get to be Exalt in the end. Then you marry yet another privileged noble and she gives you a heir that's exactly like you. It's like the universe just rolled out a red carpet for you. You get everything you want! From that point on there wasn't anyone to disagree with you! Lissa, Robin, Maribelle, Lucina, they were all fervent supporters of the church of do whatever Chrom says. Finally, after a long life of being surrounded by yes men and bootlickers, you would finally give the throne to Lucina so she could be coronated as Chrom II, so that Ylisse in the future would be exactly what you wanted it to be. You get every little thing you want in the end, and no one is able to disagree with you about anything!"

"None of that was fair, Gaius! None of that was fair!"

"How is what you're saying to Henry fair?! You know even the Shepherds weren't fair. You and Robin decided everything, and Robin never disagreed with you on anything. You controlled all of us, so of course you're upset with Henry now since this is the first time in your life you couldn't control someone."

"Anyone could have criticized my decisions in the Shepherds!"

"How?! You never made time to listen to most of us! Who were we supposed to talk to?! Robin? Frederick? Oh yeah I really trust those two to be unbiased. Those two would be impartial about criticisms of Chrom."

Chrom felt he was losing control of the conversation, and Gaius and Isaiah were not on his side. He still felt what he was saying was right, but he didn't know how to phrase it anymore without things getting worse. In a way, Gaius was right. He really wasn't used to people turning on him like this. "I don't… why are you-"

"Let me tell you something, _my lord_. Your royal blood doesn't afford you squat right now. This is a partnership, but how can we trust you if you're going to be like this?!" Chrom forced himself not to say anything else. He just took deep breaths and tried to meet Gaius' glare. "You done?"

"I can see that this conversation isn't going anywhere."

"Tell Henry you're sorry."

Chrom reluctantly turned to Henry. "I'm… I'm so sorry, Henry. I don't mean to try and take you away from Ophelia. She's not mine to control. I just don't want-"

"You're still trying to-"

"Wait!" Henry stepped in front of Gaius. "Let me talk to him." Henry walked over to Chrom, his movements slow and calm. The complete lack of anger from Henry after everything Chrom said filled Chrom with a kind of guilt, and he could barely look Henry in the eye when he finally reached him, but Henry just smiled back. "You don't trust me. I get it. I'm sorry about that. But I promise you there's nothing wrong with dark magic. I just want Ophelia to realize her potential. We could share her."

Chrom sighed. "Is that really what I sound like? We shouldn't have to share her or compete for her. We should both be there for her. As family. We can both help. I'm sorry, Henry. I'd be lying if I said I'm not worried… but I'm sorry for what I said."

"It's alright. You could be with us when I teach her spells and curses if it makes you feel better."

"I… thank you. That sounds reasonable."

"Alright. I'll go find her right now!"

"But… I mean… alright. That's fine."

Henry walked off, and Gaius gave Chrom a severe look for several seconds before finally walking away. Isaiah found himself alone with Chrom, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well I should see if Matilda needs anything from me. I have been shirking a lot of my chores today. Thanks for helping me pick those mushrooms earlier, by the way."

"No problem."

"Well… uh… bye."

Isaiah walked off, and Chrom took deep breaths to calm himself. He was still very frustrated, but he had nothing to take it out on. He drew his Falchion and intended to slam it into the ground, but then he thought about how strange and silly this would look to anyone that saw him. Instead he just held it, gazing deeply into the sword that had accompanied him since childhood. "Damn it. Just… damn it."

* * *

Soleil sat by herself at the kitchen table, resting her cheek against her arm and sighing. Matilda eventually entered the room and smiled at Soleil, though it was a smile that concealed a thinly veiled layer of annoyance. "Why so glum, sweetie? Bored?"

"I don't mean to be rude or anything. I appreciate everything you've done for us. There just isn't much for me to do out here."

"Oh bless your heart. Well when the kids say they're bored I always remind them there's chores to be done." Matilda thought to herself for a second. "Course you did help out with those mushrooms earlier, and you are our guest."

Soleil breathed a sigh of relief. "So no chores then?"

"Well you could always help us out some more if you should feel such a sudden desire for kindness."

"Err… how about later? Heh?"

Soleil left in the fear of being pressured into more chores, and Matilda smiled to herself knowing that she'd at least driven Soleil from the room. Soleil wandered outside and shrugged when she was sure she was alone. For the first time Soleil got a good look at the badlands and its almost otherworldly beauty. The wind from the prior night had died down, and the cool autumn air of southwestern Ferox was now pleasant. Soleil smiled wider than usual as she glanced around, her excitement growing when she couldn't find anyone. "You know… I think this could be a good time to practice my dancing. Just not my singing this time." Soleil proceeded to do just that. She flailed and fumbled around until she was so sweaty that the air alone couldn't cool her. Content that she'd made progress, Soleil removed her shield and plate armor on her arms, then relieved herself of her heavier padded top. She relaxed as the crisp, cold air hit her bare chest, covered only by a bra, and then slowly turned at the sound of noise to find Sarah staring at her. Soleil immediately tensed up. She wasn't afraid to change out of clothes in front of people if she felt like it, but the thought of Sarah having seen her dancing was mortifying. Sarah didn't react at all to Soleil noticing her. She just kept staring, watching Soleil as if she a wild animal that wandered near the house. "Err… can I help you, kid?"

"Just looking at cha."

Soleil noticed Sarah's gaze was drawn to her upper chest, and now her lack of shirt was bothering her. "W-wha-why, why are y-you just looking at me?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I was just looking at your tattoo."

"Huh?!" Soleil glanced down to her left arm. Just above the number tattoo she'd received at the Rockpile, which was too small to be visible to Sarah, was the Mark of Grima. It always seemed to stare back at Soleil when she looked at it, a permanent reminder of what she'd once been, no matter how brief. "Oh. Yeah."

"Were you a soldier?"

"Huh?"

"Grimleal personnel have to get the Mark of Grima tattooed somewhere on their body, and it's tradition for soldiers to get it on their upper arm. That way it doesn't affect their physical appearance, but it can be quickly shown to people who need to see it."

"That's right. But… that tradition isn't common knowledge. How do you know that?"

"I know a lot about the Grimleal."

Sarah's words disturbed Soleil. She decided to put her shirt back on. After poking her head through it and straightening out her hair, she found Sarah standing right in front of her. "Gah!"

"Want to see my books?!"

"Books?"

"That's how I know so much. Hey what army were you in anyways?"

"The 5th Army."

"That means you were stationed in western Ylisse right?"

"Yes. You really do know a lot about the Grimleal."

"Sure do. Come on! I'll show you my things!"

Sarah lead Soleil back into the house, past the kitchen, and into a bedroom. Sarah ignored the first bed, and instead pulled out a chest from underneath the second. "I have to share my room with mean ol' Paul, but he likes to be outside about now. He won't bother us." Sarah opened up the chest, and Soleil looked inside to find a number of books and several carved figurines. Sarah took out a book and handed it to Soleil. "See! These books tell me all about the Grimleal!"

Soleil looked at the book, and an unnerved expression erased her smile as she did. "The Grimleal and you. Starting your career in the Fell Dragon's Army."

"I like that book. It tells you all about the different kinds of soldiers, and it came with that poster behind you."

Soleil turned to see a poster on Sarah's wall. It depicted a Grimleal soldier wearing a full set of plate armor. The armor was a strange seafoam green color, and it was designed to be smooth and elegant. The Grimleal soldier was a young woman, though it was rather difficult to tell, and she was conversing with an old man. A little girl was tightly clutching her arm. Everyone in the poster was smiling, and on the bottom of the poster was "This is YOUR friend. She fights for YOU." Soleil had to take a step back to feel comfortable, but Sarah clearly enjoyed the poster. "Sarah… why did your parents get you these books?"

"Cause they're free. Daddy can't afford books normally, but the Grimleal in The Saltworks give out these books. I like to read, and they're all I have to read."

"They give stuff like that out for free?!"

"Sure do. Cool huh?"

"Gods. That's propaganda. They're trying to target children!"

"Propaganda?"

"It's when… it's when someone tells you certain things to make you think a certain way. Sarah, the Grimleal is trying to get kids like you to like them. You shouldn't be reading these books!"

"But why not? Mommy and daddy can't get me any other books, and I think they're interesting. They talk so much about the soldiers." Sarah smiled at the poster. "I want to be just like her one day."

"You… you want to be a soldier?"

Sarah gave an innocent smile, reminding Soleil that she was still just a naive little girl, and nodded. "Daddy wants me to be a farmer, but it's boring out here. I don't really like mushrooms. Daddy says farmers used to farm plants, but I've never seen one."

"You've never seen a plant?!"

"No. I used to think they wasn't even real before these books mentioned them. I just don't want to be a farmer. Soldiers get to travel. They get to go on adventures and see the world! Plus people always look up to them. Respect them. They're heroes! I want to be like that one day."

Soleil looked contemplatively at Sarah. "You know… I think I felt that same way when I was younger."

"Really?"

"I grew up poor too. I thought being a soldier would give me a new start. I'd get to travel. People would look up to me. I could pick up girls."

"Huh?"

"I mean… I could pick up… squirrels. Cause you know they're so cute and… stuff. Anyways, I know how that feels, Sarah."

"Did you like being a soldier?"

"No. No I hated it."

Sarah's excitement faded. "Oh."

"Sarah, I promise you it isn't what you think it'll be. It was mainly just a lot of training and marching, and when I was sent on missions it was only to collect rent or… punish people for not paying rent."

Sarah's expression became determined again. "Well it's not like that anymore."

"How do you know?"

"When did you serve in the army?"

"About fifteen years ago."

"Well things have changed since then. See they used to have regular Grimleal army soldiers collect rent and crack down on bandits, but now they use the irregular forces of the Lord Lieutenants to do that. Regular army forces are only deployed against enemies that the irregular forces can't handle. It's been that way since the Vorenus Reforms about nine years ago. If I join in a few years when I'm older, I won't be doing that."

Soleil thought about her words carefully. "Huh. You really do know a lot about the Grimleal. I'm not just saying the work was boring though. It was… horrible. The Grimleal made me do horrible things. They're jackbooted thugs, and I can't be part of that! They're evil!"

"But my books say the Fell Dragon was going to take over the world and destroy humanity. By talking to it, Aversa and Gangrel saved everyone. The Grimleal are doing what needs to be done."

Soleil took a very deep breath to calm herself, remembering that Sarah was just a little girl and not a real Grimleal apologist. "I'm not going to argue with that rhetoric you read. I'm just telling you these things from personal experience. I was where you want to be. It's not an adventure, and it's not right."

"So… the Grimleal is evil?"

"It is, Sarah."

Sarah actually considered Soleil's words. Her childish mind was willing to believe anyone and anything, and she struggled to reconcile it all. "So soldiers are evil?"

"Yes-no! No, no that's not true. Armies can be evil, Sarah. Soldiers aren't bad people but… some choose to be part of something terrible. In some ways soldiers are brave, but in some ways they sacrifice their humanity. We're all individuals who makes our own choices, but soldiers give that up. They believe in orders and the will of their superiors. It's not right to be a soldier unless you know in your heart that your cause is just, and the Grimleal is evil, Sarah. You wouldn't doubt it if you'd seen what I've seen. Maybe even what your father has seen."

Sarah just frowned. "This is hard!"

"It'll make sense when you're older. We're not Risen. We're not machines. We make our own decisions, and you have to learn to decide for yourself what's right."

Sarah stared at her poster again. "I don't know."

"Well… anyways…" Soleil tried to walk out, but Sarah tugged on her pants. "Do you still need something?"

Sarah was a little shy, but she wasn't afraid to ask for what she wanted. "Wait don't go! Can… um… can you… play with me?"

"Play with you?"

Sarah looked down. "Paul doesn't like to spend time with me, and mommy and daddy are always busy, especially since daddy's always with his new friends."

"Um… yeah alright. I'd be happy to." Sarah lit up, forgetting all about the difficult conversation she just had with Soleil, and quickly started to take some of the toys out of her chest. She took out a stuffed doll and hugged it tightly. Soleil giggled at the sight. "Aww. You want to play dolls?"

"NO! This is my dolly! Mine!" Sarah hid her doll under the bed and pulled out the figurines. "But you can play with my action figures! Let's play Grimleal vs Arch Surg. I'll be the Grimleal because they're more cooler!" Sarah eagerly handed Soleil a figurine of an Arch Surg soldier, but Soleil hesitated to grab it. Sarah frowned. "Or you can be the Grimleal if you want."

"No that's fine. I'm just wondering where you got these." Soleil took the figure and studied it. From what she'd seen of the Arch Surg, it was very accurate.

"The Grimleal give them out for free. Let me show you!" Sarah pulled out her entire collection and laid them out so that Soleil could see each figure. She pointed to several of the figures. "These are Grimleal regular army soldiers. I have a bunch of these." Sarah pointed to another figure. "But this guy is a 2nd Army soldier. Daddy just got him for me. That's the most prestigious army in the whole Grimleal!" Sarah pointed to a figure that looked exactly like the woman on her poster. "This is a Grimleal Pacification Unit. See for most of history, civilizations relied on soldiers or citizen militias to enforce the laws. The Pacification Units are dedicated police officers though. They're the first dedicated police force in history! They keep the peace in major cities so regular soldiers can go elsewhere." Sarah pointed to yet another figure, ignoring Soleil's attempts to speak up. "This guy is a Grimleal Marine. They're on ships for boarding actions and stuff. This guy is a sailor. They make the ships go! This guy is in the artillery corps. They do maths so the big guns will hit where they want them to. This guy is a Grimleal Provost. They police other army soldiers to make sure they're following the rules. This guy is a Commissar. They're political officers attached to regular army units to make sure they're loyal to the government. This guy is a Grimleal Army Ranger. They're the most elite units in the army. This guy is an Inquisitor. They work for the High Inquisitor, though they don't dress the same or use the same equipment. This guy is an SOG, which means Studies and Observations Group. They're trained in unconventional warfare, and they also work for the High Inquisitor."

"Damn girl… I mean… darn. You really know a lot about these soldiers. How about the Arch Surg figures? Did the Grimleal give these to you?"

"No, but there's a guy who makes toys in The Saltworks. Sometimes daddy has enough money to get me a figure carved. I tell him what I want, and the man makes the figure for me! I have him make Arch Surg figures so my Grimleal guys have someone to fight, you know? I know about the Arch Surg cause my books mention them." Sarah pointed to the Arch Surg soldiers. "Most of these are just regular soldiers, but this one here is a People's Storm. They're the Arch Surg's special forces. They're fanatics chosen not just for their combat skill, but for their devotion to the Archanean Liberation Front's cause. That's what my book says. Then there's this guy here." Sarah picked up a blue figure, and Soleil realized exactly who it was. "That's the Justicar! He's an Arch Surg officer the Grimleal keep running into. He's good at running away and slipping through the Grimleal lines. He's kind of infamous."

"Oh my gods! You have a Keith figure!"

"Who's Keith?"

"N-nothing. So uh… how do we play?"

Sarah smiled and picked up her Pacification Unit figure. She waited for Soleil to pick up the little carved figure of Keith, and then smacked it out of her hands. "Ha! Got you!"

"Ow! That hurt, Sarah!"

"War is h-e-double sticks, Soleil! What did you expect? Now you take one of your guys and get my guy!" Soleil took a Grimleal action figure in her hand, and Sarah acted like she'd just tried to burn the house down. "No! Those are mine!"

"Oh, yeah." Soleil took the People's Storm figure and knocked over Sarah's figure.

"There we go! I won't make it so easy next time though."

"Yeesh, Sarah. Isn't this a little violent?"

"It's not real." Sarah said, as if she genuinely thought Soleil felt empathy for her little figures.

"I know that! I mean this is a lot of violence for a little girl to be emulating."

"I'm not a little girl! I'm seven years old!"

"Uh huh…"

Sarah looked saddened, not because she disagreed with Soleil's opinions, but because she thought she was losing her playmate. Soleil noticed this, and was again reminded that Sarah was still just a child. "I see. You don't want to play with me. That's fine. I'm… I'm sorry."

"No! No that's not it. Come on, I'll play with you."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. Sure." Soleil picked up an Arch Surg figure. "I'd be happy to."

Sarah grabbed another Grimleal figure and smiled. "So you became a soldier because you wanted people to look up to you?"

"That's part of it."

"Well I think you're cool. I want to be as smart and pretty and interesting as you one day, Soleil."

"Aww thanks."

Sarah quickly knocked over another of Soleil's figures. "Ha! I tricked you!"

"You little fop!"

Sarah's lip quivered and she looked hurt. "I'm telling mommy you were mean to me!"

"Wait no! That's not-"

Sarah used the opportunity to knock over another figure. "Got you again!"

"Ugh."

* * *

Dinner that evening was mostly the same as breakfast. Salted meat made up the main course, and gratuitous helpings of mushrooms and bread made up the sides. Everyone had crowded themselves around the kitchen table when Caeldori made her way down the steps for the first time since she'd been brought to the house. Ophelia grinned from ear to ear at the sight, and Caeldori gave a faint smile back. "Room for one more?"

"Caeldy! Feeling better?"

"Yeah. I think I've spent enough time lying around in bed, though my leg is still giving me trouble."

Matilda perked her head up and noticed the slight limp in Caeldori's walk. "Oh! What's wrong with your leg, sweetheart?"

"Just an injury. There's nothing you can do for it now."

"Why's that?"

"Really it's nothing. I don't want to be a bother."

"Well if it won't heal on its own, we could try having a doctor look at it. There's doctors in The Saltworks."

Caeldori perked up as she sat herself at the table. Matilda got up and started to serve Caeldori, though she tried to quietly insist that Matilda didn't need to do anything for her. Matilda just smiled through it. "Oh. So there is a major settlement around here?"

"Well look at that. I guess Caeldori doesn't know everything." Soleil jeered under her breath. Ophelia elbowed her.

"Yeah. The Saltworks. Only place we can get supplies round these parts. Isaiah has had to work the salt mines there in the past when money's been tight."

Isaiah chuckled as he took another bite. "Never take fresh air for granted again."

"So would there be a surgeon there?"

"Sure. All kinds of doctors. We could take you tomorrow."

"We can't ask you to do that."

"Nonsense. If you need medical attention then by all means get it!"

"Thank you, Matilda." Chrom added. "We'll pay for it all ourselves. Don't worry about that."

"It's settled then. Now don't be shy, Caeldori. Dig into your food."

As much as Caeldori hadn't wanted Matilda to expend any effort for her, she couldn't help but do just that. "Thank you. All of you."

Matilda smiled and looked over to where Soleil, Gaius, Chrom, and her husband were sitting. "So anyone do anything interesting today?"

"No!" All four of them exclaimed at once, remembering the very personal conversations they'd all had. Isaiah wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat up straight. "No, darling. Everything was quiet."

"You sure? You spent all day talking to 'em."

"Oh it's nothing you need to worry about. Dinner is delicious by the way. Thank you."

"Yes. Thank you so much!" Ophelia added with a heartfelt smile. Matilda nodded.

"Anything for the Exalt and his friends. And don't worry, Caeldori. Your leg will be fine. You don't need to concern yourself with it anymore."

"Thank you."

Matilda turned back to Isaiah, who feigned a smile and tried his best to ignore the awkwardness that had since risen in his side of the table; the former Shepherds there reminded of the earlier argument. "So quiet, peaceful day today, dear?"

"Oh yeah. Nothing to worry about out here. Nothing to worry about."

But just outside, barely visible against the night sky, stood a lone figure. It was humanoid, but one only needed a brief glance to see that something about it was off. The entity's face seemed to be covered by a mask, yet the figure's mouth seemed to come out of the mask, as if it was its face. The figure was a very dark color, such that it could only barely be made out in the blackness, but its eyes were a bright, glowing red. The monstrosity took a few listless steps towards the homestead. "GWAAAAAR! Humaaaans! Algol… kill… HUMAAAAARRRGHH!"


	31. The Hidden Ending

"Gah!"

Stahl shot upwards and ran his hands through his messy, olive colored hair as he took deep breaths and tried to calm himself. Stahl rarely became excited about anything, but the things he'd just seen startled him. He sweated heavily in his armor, and he had to get up and walk back and forth to feel comfortable. It was then that a heavily armored figure appeared behind him.

"Stahl!"

Stahl quickly turned to find Frederick looming over him. The veteran Knight that had once trained Stahl himself shot a stern glare at his comrade, but Stahl wasn't worried. If anything he was relieved to have someone to talk to. "Frederick! You won't believe what I just saw."

Frederick's expression softened somewhat. "You saw something? I was worried that you might not be taking your patrol duty seriously, but it pleases me to find that you're being quite observant. Please relay anything you've seen to me at once."

"Alright, alright. Man, how do I start? I saw Chrom! It was all about him!"

"Milord?"

"Yeah! Except, except he was old! He was like an old man, well no. He wasn't really that old, but he looked old! He was grumpy and serious and always scowling or yelling or crying about something. He was still muscular and he could still kick a lot of butt, but he also complained about his age and sometimes couldn't do things. I don't know. I didn't really understand it. He had the Falchion, but he also had this tube looking thing that went bang and shot invisible arrows at people. He also still didn't wear a sleeve on his right arm. What's up with that anyways? It's kind of weird not wearing a sleeve when you're otherwise wearing armor but, you know, whatever. He got shot and beat up and stabbed and electrocuted but he wouldn't die!"

"... what?"

"And he was living by himself because everyone was dead! You were dead! I was dead! Everyone was… wait no some people weren't dead. Cordelia wasn't dead, but then she did die. Gaius wasn't dead, but then he died too. Wait no, he didn't die. I'm getting ahead of myself here."

Frederick just stared blankly at Stahl for awhile. "What?!"

"Anyways so he meets Tiki and these three girls that are the children of Severa, Inigo, and Owain! They're like _third_ generation Shepherds. Severa's daughter was Caeldori. She's like Cordelia but like more annoying. Owain's daughter was Ophelia and she was a mage! Inigo's daughter was Soleil. She was just like him but she was a lesbian and her singing sounded like an animal dying! Anyways they meet Chrom and annoy him into helping them fight the Grimleal! By the way the Fell Dragon was resurrected but didn't kill everyone because Gangrel and Aversa convinced it to spare humanity in exchange for everyone doing whatever it wanted. The Grimleal controlled the whole world. There were all kinds of weird people in it like this guy with a girl's name that had a mask and wooden arms and this tattooed religious lady and this foreign guy with weird sayings like "aye guvnor" or something like that I don't remember and there was this guy with a glaive and a hood and Gangrel had a baby named Emmeryn and Aversa had annoying children."

Frederick struggled to keep his composure as he attempted to make sense of everything he was hearing. He tried to interrupt, but Stahl only briefly paused to catch his breath.

"And some of us were there too! Gaius was there and he shot people and ate candy well I guess he already eats candy but he shot people! Cordelia was there and she had no eyeballs and she had sex with Chrom but it's okay because Maribelle was dead I think and she probably went through the special change by then you know what I mean but then Lucina cut off her head! Oh Lucina was also there but it's not the one we know it's the baby one but she grew up and she became a mindless drone and she was yelling and screaming and what not. Tharja was there as a floating ghost and Henry was… well he was about the same really. Severa was there but she was a deadbeat mom. Donnel was there but he had a new family and he grew mushrooms because there were mushrooms everywhere. Gangrel and Aversa were there but they were evil wait did I already say that already? Anyways they tricked Chrom into killing everyone. Oh by the way Chrom killed us. That's why he's all old and yelling at everything."

"W-what?! Stahl slow down-"

"And there was this guy that dressed exactly like Lucina but he was always yelling and he didn't quite fit in her outfit because he's this big tall guy. A lot of the people we killed were also there because we didn't kill them. Vasto was there and Algol was there and… blonde lady was there and… uh… yelling horse guy was there… and mustache guy was there… and uh… shirtless guy was there… and old pervert guy was there… and Gangrel was there. Wait did I say that already? There were also Risen but they turned into man eating monkey monsters and they dug holes and stuff. Minerva was there and they flew around on her but Cherche wasn't around and neither was Gerome but he and some of the other second generation Shepherds were Deadlords that followed that weird guy around."

Stahl paused for breath. He continued before Frederick could stop him. "So anyways a lot happened! Chrom and the girls went around until they got captured but then they escaped and they met Gaius and Cordelia and then they met these rebels that were fighting the Grimleal but they were mean and they got captured and then they met Henry and then they escaped again and then they met Donnel and then… well that's really all that happened but there was a lot of talking and philosophizing and I saw the villain's perspectives sometimes which really doesn't always happen in a story and-"

"STAHL!"

Stahl caught his breath. "Wew. That was a long story, but it was only a dream."

Frederick squinted at Stahl. "Ah so that's what this is. It was just a dream?"

"Yep."

"In other words you were sleeping _on patrol_?"

Stahl looked at Frederick nervously. "Uh… well-"

Frederick stepped close to Stahl and placed his finger against the chest of the fellow Shepherd while speaking in a low and menacing tone. "If I catch you sleeping on night patrol duty again, you'll be cleaning the latrines for a month."

"Y-yes, sir." Frederick marched off. Stahl watched him and breathed a sigh of relief as he disappeared from view. "Man, that's the last time I eat right before a nap. Oh! I almost forgot my mid patrol snack!" Stahl took a sack he had stored and pulled out several pieces of bread and some butter. He chuckled to himself as he coated the bread. "Ha! I guess none of that could happen in real life. I mean that dream was way too ridiculous. No woman would ever want to be with Inigo."

(April Fools!)


	32. The Lord Of Oblivion

_When Chrom was very young, the royal palace was constantly abuzz with activity. It was still frequented by all manner of people as Chrom aged, but it was an especially chaotic place at the height of his father's crusade. Nobles and prominent individuals of all kinds travelled to the palace to make their voices heard. Commoners from as far away as the borders travelled on their own accord to report Plegian attacks, protest the conscription of family members, or complain about the strain of the war effort. Even people from other countries visited on diplomatic missions. The palace was at its most active in the few times when Exalt Caracalla was present. Chrom's father preferred to direct the war effort personally, but he was sometimes made to return to Ylisstol and deal with the many people that needed him._

 _Chrom would often play with the children of the palace visitors. At the moment Chrom was involved in a game of tag with six other kids his age. One girl was Sully, one of the few friends Chrom would consistently have in his childhood. Another was Maribelle, the daughter of the Duke of Themis. As fate would have it, she would stand by Chrom's side as a Shepherd many years later. The other children consisted of two soldier's sons, the daughter of a handmaiden, and the son of a visiting nobleman. Though Chrom would only know most of them a short time, and though their parents were all of varying social classes, the children happily played together in the present. They took turns being "it" in their game of tag until it was Chrom's turn to tag someone else. He excitedly chased his companions down the main hallway of the palace. In fact he chased them a little too excitedly, as it wasn't long before he tripped and fell. Chrom hit his knee hard enough for it to start bleeding, but he wasn't seriously hurt. He wasn't really bothered at all until he glanced up to see that his friends weren't coming back for him. They were all too happy to take advantage of the opportunity to avoid losing the game._

 _"Wait!" Chrom cried out. "C-come back! I fell!"_

 _Most of the children ignored him as they ran into hallways, disappeared behind objects, or dashed through the legs of adult visitors and royal guards. Only Maribelle turned back to Chrom, but she just jeered at him. "Ha! Looks like you're a rotten egg!"_

 _Chrom cried out again, but Maribelle left him there. He glanced around to see only the apathetic faces of the adults, many of whom annoyed by the children and rather unsympathetic. Chrom felt incredibly alone, and though his knee didn't hurt that much, he started to wail and scream. Throughout his childhood, so long as he was actually in the palace, Chrom only had to endure any kind of misery for a short while before a small army of servants would descend upon him. Now was no different, and Chrom only cried for a minute or two before half a dozen handmaidens and palace servants arrived to console him. They were quickly joined by several palace guards and nobles once they realized who he was. A handmaiden wiped away the blood on Chrom's knee, and several people tried offering him candy and toys, but Chrom was inconsolable. For all the attention and privilege his birth afforded him, Chrom in this moment wanted what virtually all four year olds wanted. The attention of his parents. Unfortunately no one present really had the authority to summon the Exalt or the Queen away from their duties, but by chance Caracalla walked down the hallway on his own._

 _Caracalla was flanked by two of his most trusted military officers, General Rouchfort and Captain Aeneas. Rouchfort wore the same blue and gold armor now as he would decades in the future, though it obviously did not have the Mark of Grima emblazoned on it. In his youth he had a radiant light blue hair color, and his posture was straight and commanding. Aeneas was a short and fairly muscular woman. By coincidence she greatly resembled Cordelia, but she was shorter and her hair was a much darker red. She wore blue and gold armor, complete with a short skirt and long boots that went up past her knees. Chrom turned his head at the sound of them walking towards him, and he reached out his little arm and cried out towards his father. All three adults groaned._

 _"My lord, we don't have time for this." Rouchfort said._

 _"You have a meeting to go to. Your son will be fine." Aeneas added._

 _Caracalla seemed to want to leave, but he continued to just stare back at Chrom. At first Chrom hopefully glanced over to Rouchfort and Aeneas, but they only returned apathetic glares. Chrom instead looked only at his father, and his pleading eyes eventually moved him. "Ugh. I'll deal with this." Caracalla knelt down in front of his son, though his face was less than warm. He looked at Chrom's knee and found that the wound had already been tended to, and it was clear Chrom just wanted his attention. Aeneas handed Caracalla a small cloth, and he callously wiped away at the injury. "You are too old to be acting like this, boy."_

 _"It hurts!"_

 _"It does not hurt!" Caracalla snapped back. Chrom's voice was subdued after that. "How did this even happen?"_

 _"I-I was playing with my friends but, *sniffle* I fell and they left me."_

 _"So your so called friends abandoned you did they?" Caracalla looked his son in the eye. "Let me tell you something, my son. You don't know what friendship is. When you're surrounded in battle, when mages are tearing your soldiers apart with spells, when raids on your supply lines have denied you food and supplies, when cavalry are charging directly at you, and all you have are the men and women by your side, then you will know who your friends really are. When you know war, then you will know what friendship really is."_

 _Chrom thought about his father's words, and he took it very literally. "But I don't want to go to war."_

 _Aeneas shook her head. "He's as weak minded as his elder sister." Caracalla shot her a sideways glance, but didn't raise his voice._

 _"Stay your tongue, Captain." He turned back to Chrom. "Your country will not call upon you at a moment of convenience."_

 _Sully and Maribelle returned to the hallway, either because they felt sorry about leaving Chrom or because they just now realized he hadn't returned. They tensed up at the sight of all the adults, including the Exalt himself, and tried to turn and leave. Aeneas noticed them. "Hey! You two! Here! Now!" Her voice boomed. Slowly they walked over to Caracalla, and he stood up and looked down at them._

 _"The blonde one is the daughter of the Duke of Themis. He's currently visiting the palace." Rouchfort whispered in Caracalla's ear._

 _"Who is the other one?"_

 _"No one important."_

 _Caracalla nodded and brought his gaze down on the future Shepherds. They immediately found their own feet very interesting. "Were you two playing with the prince earlier?"_

 _"We're s-sorry, sir." Sully stuttered._

 _"You have nothing to apologize for. I only ask that you kindly collect him and return to what you were doing." Caracalla glared at his son. "I have_ no time _for this childishness."_

In the present day some forty seven years later, Chrom sat up in his bedding. Caeldori once again had the spare bed at Isaiah's homestead, and Soleil had gotten to sleep on the floor that night. Gaius, Ophelia, and Chrom slept in the barn. Chrom wasn't sure how to feel about the visions of his father he had been getting recently, and he found himself absentmindedly looking between Ophelia and Gaius while pondering what he'd seen. He had been staring at the latter when he suddenly responded.

"A man just stares at another man without saying anything, second man might get nervous."

Chrom caught himself. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were awake. I just can't sleep."

Gaius rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Bad dream?"

"Actually yes, though the events really happened. It was more like a triggered memory."

"Oh? What was it about?"

"I've been having these visions of my father lately. I don't understand it. Thirty years ago I could barely recall his face, and now I keep seeing him."

Gaius chuckled. "Daddy issues huh?"

"I suppose. I never really knew my father though. He died when I was four, and I only have a few memories of him. They're all coming back to me now."

"I meant that as a joke. Men our age are too old to be moaning about our parents."

Chrom stared off into space. "Are we? The more I think about it, the more I realize we were living in his shadow thirty years ago. Emmeryn was so dedicated to peace because she was horrified by his violence. I got the Falchion only because she refused to take it. Gangrel rose to power because Plegia was devastated by the war, and they believed someone like him could protect Plegia against further Ylissean attacks. It's why they were willing to go along with his attack on us until Emmeryn's sacrifice proved how horrible it really was. A lot of the reason why the world was the way it was had to do with him. Even if I didn't really know him, I've been growing up in his world my whole life." Chrom looked back to Gaius. "Sorry, I didn't mean to turn this into a long conversation. So what's keeping you up?"

Gaius moaned. "My back isn't what it used to be. Shrill may have gotten the bed tonight, but I'm definitely getting it again tomorrow night." Gaius turned his head at the sound of Ophelia snoring. Ophelia was sleeping in between the two, and she had no problem spending the night outdoors. Gaius couldn't help but smile. "Aww. Sound asleep. I wish I could still sleep like that."

Chrom allowed himself a smile. "Even if we can't fix everything ourselves, there are always new generations."

"I suppose. You know these three make me feel old and useless sometimes… but they also fill me with hope. It's kind of hard to look right at this one though."

"Why?"

Gaius looked down. "Her robes. Besides not being edgy Plegian black… they remind me of Tharja."

"Gaius…"

"It's fine. It's… I'm fine. I suppose asking her to put on more clothes would be out of line, so I'll just have to try and look at something else. What's with mages and those thin robes anyways?"

Chrom felt himself ease up, and it was only then that he realized how tense he had been. Chrom still felt a lot of guilt and uneasiness around Gaius, but now they were having a casual conversation. He wanted to grin from ear to ear, but he tried to subdue his feelings and not let them show too much as he responded to his old friend. "I'm not really sure."

"You know, Lissa and Emmeryn were pretty good with magic. Do you think you could do that kind of thing?"

"Uh… I'm not sure. I have thought about it before, but I've trained my entire life to use a sword. I just don't know where to start." Chrom shrugged. "But maybe I have the potential."

"Didn't Old Hubba say your father was also a mage?"

"Something like that. I really don't remember much about him."

Gaius leaned back into his arms and thought for awhile. "Be honest with me, Blue."

"Sure?"

"Did you think my wife was hot?"

"Krrg!" Chrom stuttered, unprepared for that kind of question. "W-what?"

"Aw come on. Don't be such a child about it."

"W-why do you care?!"

Gaius shrugged. "Maybe I want the compliment, plus your reaction right now is pretty funny."

"I-I don't… I-I never thought about any of the Shepherds that way!"

"Aw that's a cop out! You thought about Maribelle that way."

Chrom's embarrassment faded, as more painful memories flooded over him. "Not at first. Not for awhile."

"Huh?"

"I'm serious, Gaius. I never thought about the Shepherds that way. Not even Maribelle. Not at first."

"Then how did it happen?"

Chrom looked down. The conversation had taken a personal turn he hadn't intended, but at the same time he did feel closer to Gaius, and in a way it was nice to remember the loved ones they talked about. "When I was a young man, I didn't think about that kind of thing at all. Not really. I was so busy with the Shepherds and with the war against Gangrel, and I never spent much time at the palace. I definitely didn't want anything like that with any of the women in the Shepherds. It just… it wouldn't have been right. I had authority over them. There'd be an imbalance in the relationship, and it could be seen as coercion and an abuse of my status over them. It just didn't seem, I don't know, ethical to me. I didn't want a relationship with any of those women, and I never really spent time with anyone besides the Shepherds back then. I wasn't sure when I'd meet anyone."

"So what changed? Why Maribelle?"

"Because she was of royal blood." Chrom said quietly, knowing how it made him sound. "When Emmeryn was crippled, when we all thought that she had died, she had no husband or children. I had no one. Lissa had no one. The nobles were terrified. If anything happened to us, then the royal family that had ruled this land for two thousand years may have died out. My marital status was unacceptable to them. When I became Exalt, they pressured me."

"They made you get married?"

"Suddenly I had responsibilities I never had before. Suddenly everything I did was of great interest to the nobles. My sister was just a child when she inherited the throne, so the nobles largely ruled through her. They really abused her youth to manipulate her into doing what they wanted. Though Emmeryn grew into a strong woman, the nobles still had a lot of power under her. More than they did under our parents. When I became Exalt, I didn't do anything to change that. I had lead a dozen people or so around with the Shepherds, but I didn't know anything about leading a country!" Chrom spoke softly, so that Gaius couldn't hear his next words. "I'm sorry, father. That's what you wanted from me wasn't it? I couldn't do it."

"So these nobles could just order you around?"

"Sort of. I still had agency, but it was hard to resist them when the nobility as a whole wanted something. One of the things they wanted was for me to get married. To have a heir. I was afraid that if I didn't find someone, they'd find a woman for me. As if I was some kind of purebred horse! Of all the women I knew… Maribelle was the most appropriate."

"That's why you proposed?!"

"Yeah." Chrom looked back to Gaius. "That's why. I didn't know anything about being Exalt. I didn't want to get in the way of the nobles. I needed them. I… I was so irresponsible as a young man. Leading around a militia and ignoring my country."

"But we defended Ylisse! Hell your sister would have been assassinated without us!"

"But I wasn't ready when my country needed me the most. It was easy to lead around the Shepherds and go wherever I wanted. It was hard to lead an entire country. Emmeryn was right. She was always right. And even then Gaius, the Shepherds couldn't save her in Lucina's timeline. She was the one that really saved Emmeryn."

Gaius shook his head. "You may have disagreed with Emmeryn back then, Blue, but she supported you didn't she? You don't need to feel so guilty."

Chrom couldn't suppress his smile this time. "Y-you're right. Thank you, Gaius."

"Anyways, Maribelle said yes. She must have felt something."

"Did she? Thinking back on what she was like before I proposed, on how nice she was to me and Lissa, I wonder that. Maribelle didn't treat anyone else like she treated us. I found myself wondering, even late at night lying by her side, did she want me? Or the throne?"

Gaius became genuinely shocked. "Blue that's… horrible!"

"But what if it's true?"

"So you're saying there was no love in it?! You didn't love her?!"

"No that's not… that's not what I meant. There wasn't anything at first but… but things changed. As much as I tried to block it out, I remember my mother and father always fighting when I was little. I told myself things would be like that with Maribelle if it wasn't going to work out, but they weren't. Not at all. No, no those two years of peace were some of the happiest in my life. When Lucina was born, I remember thinking she'd be the most loved baby in the world. I loved her, Gaius. It became real. I promise."

"You know Maribelle and I didn't have the… best relationship, but I still heard her talking around the camp. I can't tell you exactly why she said yes to you, but she loved you too. Even if she was just being some greedy noblewoman when she first said yes, and I'm not saying she was, I'm sure it became real for her too."

Chrom leaned back and gave a soft smile as the memories of Maribelle flowing through his mind became happier ones. "You're right. I… I shouldn't doubt it. We loved each other and… that's all the matters in the end. That's all that should matter."

"So Lucina and Brady wouldn't exist without the pressures of blue bloods worried for their privileges. Huh."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it."

"And I wouldn't have grown up so poor if your father's crusade hadn't caused so much stress on my neighborhood."

"I… I don't know." Gaius didn't say anything else, but he kept looking at Chrom. He smiled back until the moment became a bit awkward. "Gaius? Now you're staring at me."

"So I am. You know, Blue… what you just said about your father."

"Yeah?"

"My parents told me way back when that our neighborhood was hurt by the war with Plegia. A lot of people from there were conscripted, and the taxes were higher during the war. It was also hard for the average person to get supplies. I definitely grew up poorer because of your father's crusade. I don't know if my life would really be that different if things hadn't been that way, but I grew up poorer because of it. You talked about your father, and about how Lucina and Brady owe their existence to the machinations of greedy nobles, and it's got me thinking. We all like to think we're in control of our lives, but so much of what happens to us is because of the actions of other people that we have no control over. Hell we never would have met if Validar didn't want Emmeryn dead, and what if you never found Robin in the field that day? What if he never lost his memories? So much of this stuff is outside of our control. We can make decisions, but we're always living in someone else's world really." Chrom looked inquisitively at Gaius, waiting to see where he was going. "I remember hating your father as a kid, Blue, because my parents said it was his fault we had things so rough. I never imagined in a thousand years that I'd meet his son. Then even after I joined the Shepherds, I didn't think we'd be friends." Gaius shook his head and tried to gather his thoughts. "Then after… you know… I never thought I'd stop hating you. I really didn't think I'd ever see you again, and I never thought we'd… be friends again. We really don't have that much in common do we, Blue? Yet we just keep meeting each other."

"Gaius, I'm truly sorry."

"No. No that's not why I'm saying this. I'm trying to say that I'm sorry. I always looked down on you for what you represented. For being from some privileged elite. For not having to struggle like I did. But you're a good man. You really did try to save the world back then, and even now you're still helping the world. I killed people for thirty years thinking anything I did to survive was justified, but you managed to live quietly. Without hurting anyone. Now you're helping these girls, and I just barely agreed to help. Even then I almost got you killed. I almost got the three killed. I almost got Cordelia killed. Besides the girls, _you_ make me feel old and useless." Gaius was the one to try and hold back his feelings this time. "I-I don't deserve people like you. I deserved my loneliness."

"Gaius that, that's not true. And you don't have to apologize to me. Not after everything that I've done to you."

"But I've given you a lot of crap."

"Well-" Chrom smiled. "We've given each other a lot of crap."

Gaius snorted. "Ha! That's one way to look at it." The two looked over to Ophelia as her snoring became more irregular. She softly mumbled gibberish and clawed at the air with her right arm towards Gaius. She wasn't conscious, but the two were waking her up. "Well excuse me, princess!"

"We are talking right next to her." Chrom stood up and stretched. "I think I'll just get up for the day. The sun should be up soon, and Donnel, err Isaiah might need some help." Chrom looked back down. "Hey, Gaius?"

"Yeah?"

"It was… it was nice to catch up."

"Anytime, Blue."

* * *

Soleil slowly woke up as sunlight cascaded down on her from a nearby window. She yawned and rubbed her eyes to find Ophelia's smiling face. "Morning, sleepy head."

"Hmm. Erg!" Soleil waved her away and slowly sat up. "W-what time is it?"

"Sunrise."

"What?! You can't expect me to get up this early!" Soleil ran her hands through her disheveled pink hair and moaned. "Why are you up so early?"

"I had a hard time sleeping in the barn. Chrom and Gaius woke up and they just kept talking and talking."

"Better Gaius is talking to Chrom than trying to bash his skull in."

"I guess. Anyways I thought I'd get up and help Isaiah and Matilda out. They're already awake. I'm sure they'd like your help too."

"More chores?! Agh!" Soleil yawned and stood up. She straightened out her underclothes and started to step towards her armor when Ophelia gently but firmly placed her hand on Soleil's shoulder. "What now?"

"Soleil… there's something I'd like you to do. Have you spoken with Caeldori since, you know, she went off on us?"

"Can't say that I have."

Ophelia gave Soleil a soft but determined look. "I want you to talk to her."

"What?! Aw come on."

"She feels sorry. She feels like she's distanced from us. Please show her you're her friend. Show her you care about her. If not for her then… for me?"

Soleil sighed. "Why tell me this so early in the morning?"

"Matilda is taking her to a nearby town to find a doctor. They'll leave after breakfast. I want you to talk to her before she goes. Please?"

"Alright, alright. I will."

"Thank you." Ophelia smiled and turned to leave.

"Ophelia! Wait."

"Hmm?"

"You, you know I do care about her right?"

"Prove that to her, Soleil. That's all I'm asking."

After breakfast, Caeldori and Matilda did prepare to leave for The Saltworks. Matilda borrowed her husband's carriage and Caeldori gathered a few of her things. Soleil walked outside to speak with her as soon as she finished breakfast but, without meaning to, she found herself just staring at Caeldori. At first it was because she had no idea how to start the conversation or how to bring up the earlier argument, but then Soleil just became lost in trance. She watched every little thing Caeldori did. How she talked to Matilda and displayed genuine gratitude. The way she brushed her long red hair out of her eyes. The sounds she made as she took deep breaths. Soleil lost herself in these little movements. These things that no one else would ever notice were as captivating and attention grabbing to her as the sun and clouds in the sky. Soleil also found her eyes drawn to Caeldori's noticeable limping, and the metal prosthetic that now occupied her forearm. Caeldori's own expression seemed to sour every time she glanced at it, and it saddened Soleil. She suddenly felt a pain for her friend that she never felt when the two were talking.

"Are you just going to keep staring, Soleil?" Caeldori eventually stated without looking up. When she did bring the soft look of her red eyes on Soleil, the mercenary found herself at a loss for words.

"Ah, no I uh… I'm sorry. I didn't think you saw me there."

Caeldori had finished packing, and so she leaned back against the carriage. "Have I done something to earn your ire?"

"No that's not it. I… erm…" Soleil decided honesty was the least awkward way out. "I want to talk about what you said, you know, earlier. To Ophelia and I?"

Caeldori looked down. "Of course. I couldn't expect you to ignore it forever, nor do I deserve to simply be rid of the consequences of my behavior. Soleil, you're right to be angry with me."

"But I'm not."

"You're… not?"

Soleil stepped closer to her companion. "No. I'm sorry you don't feel you're as close to Ophelia and I as we are to each other. We need you though. You shouldn't feel like an outsider."

"But the things I said-"

"You just had a few to many drinks, or too much of one drink. We've all been there."

"No. Soleil, I meant what I said. I do feel that way."

"Oh?"

"That's why I feel so bad. We should be allies, and you two deserve more from me. You deserve more than me."

"Caeldori, please stop feeling so inferior. You're better than either of us at, well, a lot really. We look up to you!"

"And you deserve a better mentor. Cordelia is gone. Maybe Chrom can help, but I'm too weak. I'm not what I should be. I've let my grandmother down."

Soleil shook her head. "You've just got to be fishing for compliments, because no way can you believe that! You're so much more skilled than we are, and you definitely took Cordelia's training the most seriously. She was so proud of you."

Caeldori brought her gaze back up. "How do you know?"

"W-well how could she not be?! You're strong! Brave! Determined! Beaut-err… battle ready!"

"You're just saying that."

Soleil smiled, though she was actually a bit frustrated by the extent of Caeldori's self deprecation. "Well I don't care how you feel. I look up to you. Ophelia and I need you. And there aren't any hard feelings. I promise."

"R-really? Soleil, it's okay to be mad."

"And I was, but you're our friend." Soleil patted Caeldori on the shoulder with her right hand, and with her left she gently took Caeldori's prosthetic. "You know… remember what I said when you first got this?" Soleil said while playfully shaking Caeldori's prosthetic.

"Remind me?"

"Do you want to… I don't know… do something? Sometime? T-together? We could really get to know each other better. We've been together for years, but we haven't really spent much time with just the two of us."

Caeldori finally gave a genuine smile. Surely Soleil wouldn't want her continued attention if she was just saying things to make her feel better. "I… I'd like that, Soleil."

"Oh, wait. We can't."

"Huh?"

Soleil smiled wider. "We just couldn't find anything to do together. I like to have fun. You're more of the in bed by seven type. We'd never agree on anything."

"What?!"

"Did I get it wrong? Are you more of an in bed by six type?" Soleil jested.

"Soleil, I know how to have fun."

"Really. Well you'll have to prove that to me sometime."

"Maybe I will."

Soleil giggled, surprised at how easy talking to Caeldori had become. "Well I guess you're not exactly like your grandma after all."

Caeldori's smile slowly faded, and a rather bitter look eventually replaced it. "What?"

"Well you know… Cordelia was more strict and… stuff."

"And that's a bad thing? It's bad that she took this very seriously?"

Soleil's own smile disappeared as she knew she'd crossed some kind of line. "Well…" She said as she tried to backtrack. "No. It's just that… I'm just saying she didn't have fun very often. I didn't mean anything by it."

"But you did. You may not have gotten along with Cordelia very well, but she was right. You goof off way too much, and she's not some stick in the mud just because she wanted you to take her training more seriously."

"I'm not trying to start something here, Caeldori!"

"You insulted my grandmother!"

"I didn't insult her! I'm just saying… it's good to have fun every once in awhile!"

Cordelia's death was too recent for Caeldori, and she wouldn't calm down. Not unless she could get a last word in on Soleil. Of course Soleil's own ego wouldn't let Caeldori do that. "You have too much fun."

"You're not really sorry about what you said are you?"

"That's not fair! I am sorry about how I phrased what I said, but I wasn't wrong about you, Soleil. You need to take things more seriously. It's not a bad thing to relax occasionally, but you don't take your training seriously. You'd goof off before you'd do anything else."

"The arrogance! You can't apologize to me without lecturing me!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being right. Always practicing your dancing, or lying around, or chasing something in a skirt, but let me tell you something. You can't dance off failure. You can't just avoid failure. You can't _get off_ on failure. You're going to get hurt if you don't take this war seriously!"

"Your mom gets off!"

"What?! What does that even mean?"

"Who are you to talk down to me, Caeldori?! You're not a professional. At least you couldn't maintain a professional relationship with your male tutors."

"T-that's none of your concern!"

"Don't think Cordelia wasn't disappointed in you sometimes, and don't think you're exactly like her. By the time Cordelia was your age she had a husband. She had dozens of comrades that would fight by her side. You just have us and nothing. You're not really that different than Ophelia and I. Who are you to talk down to us as if you're in some position of authority!"

"Don't mention her name again!"

"You are one of us, Caeldori! If we're failures, then you're a failure too! Don't talk down to me!"

Caeldori jammed her finger into Soleil's chest. "You know what, _mercenary_?"

"Get your finger out of my face."

"One of these days your lack of discipline will get you into trouble, and you'll beg for my help."

Soleil swatted Caeldori's finger out of the way, but she stuck it back. Soleil struck it out of the way more violently, and the two women stared bitterly at each other for a few seconds.

Matilda dismounted the front of the carriage and walked over at the sound of commotion to find Soleil and Caeldori grappling with each other. Though Caeldori was normally Soleil's superior, her injured leg had slowed her down, and so Soleil had managed to keep her in a headlock. Caeldori desperately clawed at her face, but Soleil continued to restrain her. "Soleil, you monkeyspank!"

"Shut up, fartknocker!"

Soleil stuck her finger in her mouth and then wedged it into Caeldori's ear. "Agh! G-get your finger out of my ear!"

"Aw. Look at how Cordelia the Second squirms. Your grandmother would never allow a _lowly mercenary_ to keep her in a headlock!"

"You overgrown bunion!"

Matilda cleared her throat, causing the two to let go of each other and rise to their feet. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Caeldori responded politely as she brushed herself off. "Everything is fine. I'm ready to go." She gave Soleil one last glare. "Goodbye, mercenary."

Soleil just stuck her tongue out and angrily walked back to the homestead, but her heart felt very heavy. It sank even further into her when she noticed Ophelia nearby, her arms crossed and her face in an angry scowl. "I saw what happened! Caeldori is in a very fragile place right now, and she doesn't need you yelling at her! Thanks for nothing, Soleil!"

Ophelia walked away, and Soleil moaned as she ran her hand down her face. "Ugh. I need a break from being me for awhile."

* * *

Chrom tried to help Matilda out as much as he could before she left, but he still felt the need to do something for Isaiah. He wandered around the house while looking for him, and he found the former Shepherd in a small room upstairs. Isaiah was tending to a bedridden woman that couldn't have been younger than eighty. Chrom could swear he'd seen her before, but it was hard to get a good look with Isaiah blocking him. "Here you go, Ma. We went light on the salt, just the way you like it."

"Such a good boy, Donnel." The women responded meekly.

"Anything else you need, just let me know. I'll be up in a jip!"

"Thank you. Such a good boy, Donnel." The woman lied back into her pillow, making no immediate attempt to reach for her tray of food. "But a man your age shouldn't have to make all his meals alone. When are you going to tie the knot with this Matilda girl you've been telling me about?"

Isaiah smiled, though it was a desperate attempt to hide a twinge of sadness. "Ma… I've told you. We've been married for over fifteen years."

Isaiah's Ma smiled back and nodded her head, but she was clearly feigning it. She really hadn't remembered. "Oh, oh of course dear. I just need some food is all."

"Yeah. Take it easy, Ma." Isaiah gently kissed her on the forehead and stood up. "Just let me know if you need anything else." Isaiah turned, his eyes widening as he saw Chrom. He slowly walked out and silently closed the door to the room. "Sorry. Didn't see you there. Need anything?"

"I just wanted to see if I could help in any way."

"Oh. Kind of you to offer. I don't think there's anything at the moment, but I'm sure my wife left me a list somewhere."

"Was that your mother?"

"Sure was. She's still hanging in there, strong as ever!"

"She… doesn't remember you got married?"

Isaiah became saddened. "She knows. Deep down she knows. She just… forgets is all. Her mind isn't what it used to be."

"Right. You told me how she can't remember your new name." Chrom felt the need to try and make Isaiah feel better. "It's good that you still take care of her."

"What is a son for?"

Isaiah reached for a cup on a nearby table and took a sip. Chrom looked into the cup to see a liquid that looked like thin mud. "What is that?"

"It's called coffee." Isaiah offered it to him. "Want a sip?"

Chrom cautiously drank from the cup, and his face scrunched up as he set it back on the table. "Oh! That's bitter! It could use cream or something like that."

Isaiah shrugged. "I guess it's an acquired taste. I can't explain it, but I swear it helps me get up in the morning."

"I've never heard of coffee."

Isaiah chuckled as he took the cup and swirled the liquid around. "You know they have all kinds of things you've probably never heard of at the city's market. Everytime I go there I see things from all over the world. Wine from Ylisse. Mead from Ferox. Rice and silk from Chon'sin." Isaiah seemed to look through Chrom, as if lost in thought. "And things from places I've never heard of like coffee, maize, rubber, cassava, yams, squash, turkeys, alpacas, ivory, strange fruits, and all different kinds of alcoholic drinks. All these strange goods from faraway continents. One time I was talking to one of the merchants and he showed me a globe of the world. The first thing I noticed was that this map was on a sphere! Those bookworm types think the world's spherical."

Chrom hadn't thought the world flat so much as he never thought it even had a shape. The world to him was everything that was, but he wondered if it was truly infinite or not. If it did have an end, that he supposed it had to have had a shape of some kind. "A sphere? Like a ball?"

"That's what they say. Ylisse and Valm were some of the larger continents, but there's so many others. You gotta get over some mighty bodies of water to find 'em. That's why we never learned about them before."

"So the Grimleal discovered these lands."

"Rediscovered. There were already folks living in these places. Some of them came over here. They sometimes have darker skin colors and strange hairstyles, and they speak languages I don't understand one bit of. I thought the world had opened up when I joined the Shepherds. I didn't know anything."

"So… the Grimleal truly has taken over the entire world." Chrom said quietly.

"They have. There's never been anything like it in history, and not just because they have a huge army. It's how they control people. How they keep people in line. They have these trading corporations that bring the trade goods from other lands. Most of the world is as barren as it is here, and the Grimleal controls all the areas that can still produce food. Cities need these corporations to get supplies. If a city tries to rebel, the Grimleal just lets it starve."

"What's a corporation? I've never heard that word."

"It's a big organization that exists to make money. As far as I can tell, it's an ingenious way to maximize individual profit while minimizing individual effort and responsibility."

"They exist to make money? You said they help the Grimleal control the world."

"Well… how'd that feller explain this to me. They're private organizations, but they aid the Grimleal. They're… uh… oh yeah, joint stock companies. They have these watchacallits… stocks! Yeah stocks. Different people can own stock in a corporation, and it's like they own a piece of it. The Grimleal itself owns a lot of stock in these trading corporations, but they're still private organizations. They serve the Grimleal, but they also make money for themselves. The Grimleal keeps them in line not by using force, but by making deals that are mutually beneficial. See the global economy runs on… aw shucks how'd that guy explain it to me… protectionism? Something like that? The Grimleal works to create favorable conditions for its corporations and industries. It doesn't allow other markets to get ahead. Basically the Grimleal makes it so that only their corporations can prosper and dominate the global desire for trade goods, and in exchange these trading corporations work to aid the interests of the Grimleal. They don't control the world just by using armies. They control the economy. How people can even put food on the table."

Chrom hadn't felt this way since he was a child and his tutors tried to explain algebra to him. "Uh… I'm not sure I really got all of that."

"So these trading corporations supply these trade goods to markets, and they make a lot of money."

"How much?"

"I don't know. Millions of gold every month?"

Chrom jerked in place. "Millions of gold every month?! The treasury of the Halidom of Ylisse in the palace wasn't worth that much!"

"The world's changing. People don't owe their allegiance to feudal lords anymore. They owe their allegiance to gold. To the invisible hand of commerce. You're uh…" Isaiah shrugged. "You ain't a lord of anything no more."

"The world is so different. I don't understand it anymore."

"I don't either." Isaiah looked back to his mother's room. "Maybe I can't understand the world… but I can be good to my wife. I can take care of my Ma. I can be a father to my children. The world may change, but a man can always have a family." Isaiah looked Chrom straight in the eye, and he gave Chrom the most understanding look he'd given him since they first saw each other again. "No matter what happened in the past… a man can always move on with his life."

"Can he?"

"You were saying how I'm not that excitable young man you first met thirty two years back last time we talked, but you're not the same either. You were so determined. So sure of yourself. You were determined to help the world, and you didn't think for a second that what you were doing was wrong in any way. Now there's a sadness to you. I can tell you care about these young women now, but I'm not sure you care about anything else. Not even yourself."

"I… I don't know what to say."

Isaiah patted Chrom on the shoulder and started to walk away. "You should have moved on. Had a new family. You'd be a lot happier."

Chrom didn't look back. He just stared down at the floor until Isaiah was gone. "H-how… how could I?"

* * *

Chrom sat on Isaiah's porch, resting his chin in his hands and staring blankly into the distance. Chrom had lost track of time, but the sun was already overhead, and he knew Matilda and Caeldori had already left for The Saltworks. Chrom never intended to be there so long, but he couldn't make himself move. He just became more and more lost in his sadness. Isaiah's words went through his head over and over, and he couldn't get over them. His trance was broken only by the touch of a woman's hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see a very familiar blue outfit, but the sight of it hadn't been friendly in recent weeks. This time it was being worn by the woman Chrom knew. "Father?" Lucina smiled down on Chrom. "Are you busy?"

"Gods." Chrom didn't entertain the idea of speaking to her. "I haven't even been drinking." He glanced over to see several of the Shepherds over his other shoulder. Some of them looked back at him and smiled. It only made him more panicked. "I'm losing my mind!"

Chrom stood up, but Lucina acted like it was a completely normal conversation. "I… I was wondering if we could train." Lucina held out a practice sword with one hand while holding another. "And I happen to have two practice swords right here." Lucina had a hopeful tone, and her voice almost disarmed Chrom, but he didn't fall for it. He backed away, and Lucina acted as if she was really there. "Oh. I… I see. You're busy. Maybe another time. I'm… sorry to bother you."

"You're not… you're gone. Did… did I fall asleep?"

Chrom looked back to see that the other Shepherds were now bodies on the ground. A blue figure stood over them with the Falchion, and Chrom thought it was himself at first, but it was yet another Lucina. Chrom could see it wasn't the one he'd once known. He could see from her clothes and the frozen expression of rage that this was his still living daughter. Gangrel's enforcer. "No. No, no I'm… I'm not going through this!"

"Ha ha ha!" Chrom turned to see Gangrel himself behind him. "How long, Chrom? How long will you keep hanging on? You have no place in this world. You know that."

Chrom couldn't suppress his emotions anymore. "You!"

"How does it feel? You were born into privilege. I was born in the SLUMS! You were groomed by your father to inherit his place. I watched my mother DIE in front of me! You had everything given to you. I had to seize the throne! Yet for all that, I have become so much more than you. You lead dozens of people. I lead hundreds of millions. I make more gold in a second than you did in a year. I have saved humanity from the Fell Dragon where you did not."

"I'm nothing like you, Mad King!"

"Of course not. I'm actually successful. Slink back to your kennel, little pup. You haven't the mettle for my world." E-13 walked over to Gangrel's side, and he put his hand on her shoulder. "Do you like my trophy? You made her for me."

"Shut up!" Chrom swung at Gangrel, but E-13 grabbed his fist, directed it out of the way, and quickly struck Chrom in the stomach. Gangrel laughed as he fell to the ground. "Medeus! Gharnef! Hardin! Gazzak! All the Plegians that have died by the hands of the Ylissean imperialists! Thou art avenged! Anri's accursed bloodline lies on the precipice of oblivion! Now, E-13, mete and dole punishment unto the last son of Naga! With one fell swoop the ground beneath you will be torn asunder and you will be sent to hell! You'll fit right in!"

E-13 raised her sword, and Chrom covered his face. "Agh!"

"Chrom?" Chrom panickedly looked up to see Soleil looking at him. Looking into her brown eyes instantly calmed Chrom, and he glanced back to see that the hallucinations were gone. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." Chrom straightened himself. "Yeah, I'm fine. W-what do you need?"

"Umm." Soleil rubbed the back of her head and darted her eyes around. "Well I was talking to Caeldori earlier and… well… I should train more. Could you… if you aren't busy… could you give me some sword training?"

Chrom was stunned, but it was a pleasant feeling. He slowly smiled back, and the stress the visions caused him melted away. "I… I'd love to. Of course."

Soleil looked relieved, and she gave Chrom a cheery look he hadn't seen since before she learned the truth about what happened to the Shepherds. "Alright! Thanks a lot. Try and keep up, old man!" Soleil ran off towards the land, and Chrom just found himself smiling more and more as he watched her.

"Move on huh? Well… I guess this isn't so bad. There are always new generations. Maybe I lost my old life… but I can still live for something."


	33. The War Criminal

"Remember. We're just simple mercenaries. We don't have to reveal too much about ourselves. We just take the money, rendezvous with the Arch Surg contacts, and go our separate ways. We all meet back up in Belfire within a span of two weeks. Got it?" Vasto's wyvern riders all nodded, and Vasto looked over his men and smiled. "These agents we're meeting with are supposed to be some of the best in the Grimleal, but don't worry. We'll get through this just fine, and we'll make a fortune for the Arch Surg. No longer will our forces have to go into battle without food or modern weapons." Vasto looked down to his own attire. He couldn't help but picture himself in more modern and ornate armor. "Plus I'm sure we'll earn a little finder's fee. Even a fraction of the bounty would make us filthy damn rich. I mean courtesans by the cartload rich!"

Vasto and his wyvern riders chuckled, but the moment was interrupted by the arrival of the Grimleal contacts. Vasto had been scanning the horizon for the Grimleal, expecting them to approach by carriage on foot. He never expected them to materialize in a flash of purple light not ten meters in front of him. A pulsating, sickeningly purplish black disc ascended from the ground, depositing about fifteen people as it did. These individuals didn't look like regular soldiers. Nine of them did wear very similar outfits, but no one was the exact same. The six in front looked distinct from the others and each other. There was nothing about them that immediately gave away their affiliation to the Grimleal, and Vasto wondered if he'd encountered some kind of special forces or political organization. The only reason he was sure they were Grimleal at all was their appearing out of thin air from some alien and horrible application of dark magic.

The woman standing in the very front barely looked half of Vasto's age. She wore simple clothing and looked little different from a mercenary or a hunter. She had icy blue eyes and light blonde, almost white hair. She looked soft and conventionally feminine. The eye was drawn to the others more than it was to her, and she looked entirely out of place with the tough looking men and women she stood with. The woman was confident in her posture and movements however, and her position in front of everyone implied she was the leader.

Yet for all that, the five individuals standing by her were far more intimidating and visually interesting. To the woman's left was a man of average height and build, with olive skin and brown eyes. His chin was pointed, and the entire lower half of his face seemed to slope downwards into it. He seemed to wear an apathetic and disinterested expression, but it was also possible that his strangely angled face just pulled down into that look on its own. The man covered his hair with a kempi, flattened and droopy from years of presumed wear and tear, and the Mark of Grima was emblazoned on the center. The man also wore a done up leather jacket, pants, and boots. All of the man's clothing from his hat to his boots was colored stark white. On top of all of this, the man wore a flowing cape that billowed down to his thighs. It too was a brilliant shade of white, but it also featured reflective golden highlights to accentuate it. Slung across the man's back, though not in such a way as to obscure his cape, were two large firearms. One was a long arquebus, the other a short carbine. No less than four wheellock pistols were strapped to the man's jacket, and fuse lit grenades of various sizes hung on his belt. As the group got closer to Vasto, he could see that these firearms featured shimmering and incredibly elaborate engravings of military campaigns on them. The man's entire look was as a constant assault on the eyes. A strange combination of heavy armament and vanity.

To the left of that man was woman sharing the theme of a physically unassuming individual made more threatening by their attire. The woman had slightly tanned skin and ethnic features indicating she was of Chon'sin descent. She wore a black beret, the Mark of Grima adorning it, and a red scarf tied around her neck. A light blue coat covered what appeared to be nothing more than a dark blue work shirt, but sashes strapped a number of tools and small weapons to the woman's chest. The woman's belt featured pouches and pockets of all kinds, and holders for even more tools were strapped to her pants. The woman's primary weapon appeared to be a crossbow. It was slung across her back just over a relatively small pavise. Though Vasto couldn't yet see this, the Mark of Grima decorated the shield.

To her left was another woman, shorter than anyone there. Her entire face save for just her eyes and ears was covered by a bandana and a handkerchief. The rest of her clothing consisted of just a hide jacket, simple work clothes, and boots. A few small knives and a pistol were strapped to her legs, and a knapsack carrying various supplies hung from a single strap going across her chest. The woman's attire was not particularly notable, but her eyes more than attracted attention. Her irises were a bright, unnatural gold, and they projected light outwards like candles. Some of the woman's blood veins were visible against what little skin was exposed, and they too seemed to shimmer and pulsate. It was an eerie sight, and Vasto quickly darted his eyes to the other side.

To the lead woman's immediate right, standing in front of everyone else, was a very tall man. He dwarfed the woman herself, and his own posture and body language also implied a high rank. The man wore a black leather long coat that fell down to his thighs. The man also wore black leather boots and pants, but he wore a covering of chainmail over his chest, just visible underneath the undone coat. All of the coat's buttons were made of gold, and patches sewn into the coat were displayed prominently. The Mark of Grima appeared a few times, but the largest patch featured a symbol Vasto didn't recognize. It was a depiction of a skull, eyes glowing red like those of a Risen, with a knife clenched in its teeth. Attached to the man was a shoulder belt with pouches for ammunition. Though Vasto could see no firearms on the man, he easily could have been hiding some. Finally a few grenades were attached to a belt on the man's waist, and he also had a gold plated canteen. The man wore a kepi, but unlike his companion his hat was more circular, rigid, and clean. The Mark of Grima was also pinned to the front of this hat. The man had fair skin and a hard stern expression, though little of his face could be seen behind a thick, black handlebar mustache and sunglasses made from thin cuts of smoky quartz.

To his right was a woman wearing a very similar leather jacket. It wasn't as dark or elaborately decorated, but the woman wore the same patches and her clothing was otherwise identical. Her jacket was fully buttoned however, and she had no belts covering it. She did have a large knife strapped to her left leg, and a holster for what looked like a tome hung by her right hip. The woman's face was also soft and unassuming, but her expression was more hardened than the very lead woman's. Her light brown hair curled out and to the back from a dark gray field service pilotka. The Mark of Grima was pinned to her cap.

To her right was a very unconventional looking man. The most striking feature of his was a bear pelt worn in such a way that the man's face protruded out of the deceased creature's own head. The clothing he wore underneath looked hand stitched, as if the man had killed and made everything he was wearing. Even the man's canteen was a hollowed out horn. For his wild and untamed look, the man's face was surprisingly groomed. The only thing notable about it was that his stare was unnerving. His piercing green eyes seemed to stare right through Vasto, and he too was difficult to look at. The man didn't seem to have much in the way of weapons save for a long machete on his hip, but Vasto wondered if he was hiding them underneath his pelt.

The nine other Grimleal agents stood behind the six, impling they were of lower rank. They wore largely identical leather jackets, each one featuring that same skull symbol. The exact attire and equipment varied from individual to individual though. Ironically, the lack of standardization reminded Vasto of the Arch Surg's own forces.

Vasto held his chin up high and silently urged the men with him to stand tall. It only took a few seconds for the fifteen Grimleal agents to close within speaking distance, but they had to be some of the hardest in Vasto's career. Vasto had been a soldier his whole life, and he knew the look of an experienced killer. Regular soldiers, men and women that had seen combat, had a determined look about them that was hard to feign. This though? This was something else. Something Vasto had only seen in a handful of his Plegian and Arch Surg comrades. This was the look of a warrior who lived for combat. Of men and women stripped of empathy entirely by the horrors of war. Of depravity and violence that went above and beyond bestial instinct. The kind only a sapient being could muster. This was the look of soldiers broken and obliterated by war, then forged into something inhuman. The look of men and women made incapable of doing anything else with their lives. Civilian life was as alien to them as war was to fresh recruits. This was the look of men and women that lived and breathed death. Fourteen of these Grimleal agents had that look burned into their haunting stares, but the woman in front didn't. She just gave a cocky smirk. Vasto focused on her as the group waked to calm his nerves, though part of him wondered if it was all designed to intentionally draw attention away from everyone else. "Hello there." The lead woman's voice was friendly enough, though there was a seriousness to it. "My name is Inquisitor Thomas."

"So you got our money?"

"You got the manners to say hello first?"

"... hello."

"I have the agreed upon bounty, merc. Do you have the war criminal?"

"War criminal?"

Thomas seemed genuinely annoyed at her own words. "Yeah my boss has me call her that. Now do you have her?"

The man beside Thomas stepped forwards. He held a stern and unmoving expression on his face as he removed his sunglasses, showing off piercing amber colored eyes. "I do hope you know there are penalties for lying to us about something this serious, mercenary."

Vasto gulped. Though he wasn't lying to the Grimleal on this particular subject, the man's stare filled him with a primal fear. Vasto relied on his decades of military experience to suppress it and keep a cool head, though his voice still came out shaky. "I assure you we have her. W-who are you people anyways?"

The man stepped forward until he was only about a third of a meter away. He stood a head over Vasto, and he glared down at him. "Military Assistance Command - Studies and Observations Group. We work under the High Inquisitor."

"I've heard of you. You're some kind of special forces group. I don't know exactly what it is you do though."

"And you never will."

The woman with a leather jacket stepped forward. Though she was only of average height for a woman, she gave Vasto such an intense glare that he tensed up in fear of her. "Take us to the Voice of Naga, mercenary. Now."

"Right. Of course. It's what we all came for after all." Vasto waved the Grimleal agents forward and quickly turned towards Tiki's cell. Thomas and the six agents with her followed, though the others stayed behind. Vasto didn't so much walk as awkwardly shift towards the cell, and he just focused on being glad the Grimleal couldn't see his face as he finally reached it and had his men open up the locked door. Vasto was so nervous as the door slowly swung forward he could barely speak, but the Grimleal agents were too distracted by what they saw inside to pay him any attention. Thomas was in a state of stunned silence as her eyes fell upon the cell's contents. The other SOG members were more professional, but no one was completely unaffected.

Tiki slowly brought her head up and gave a terrified look to the Grimleal agents. Really only her eyes were visible through the heavy chains and bindings, but those eyes said enough about how she felt. Vasto instantly felt a sinking feeling, and he had to turn away from the woman he was giving to the Grimleal. Thomas herself also seemed moved somewhat, but her companions were more surprised or excited.

"Ha!" The man with the cape and kepi shouted. "Молодца, mercenary! You actually caught the slippery wyrm!"

"I don't believe it." Thomas said blankly. "The Voice of Naga."

The man with sunglasses looked down to Vasto, even as the rest of the Grimleal continued to gawk at the woman that had so long eluded them. "So how did you manage to capture her, mercenary? This war criminal has evaded us for thirty years. How could you possibly have succeeded?"

"Uhh…" Vasto had an answer for this question, but he was so nervous around the SOG that he forgot it entirely. "We caught her napping?"

"You caught her… napping." The man responded in an annoyed and stern tone.

"She is known for sleeping a lot, heh heh."

"Give it a rest, Yuri." Thomas said without looking away. "We had the bounty precisely so that mercenaries like this might help us capture her. Who cares how they did it."

Yuri smiled at Thomas. "Of course, my lady." Vasto could barely breathe a sigh of relief before Yuri turned back to him, his intense stare making it obvious that he knew something was off. Once again only a few seconds passed, yet it felt like some of the longest in Vasto's life. The two men just stared at each other, Vasto on the edge of being a nervous wreck, until Inquisitor Thomas patted her companion on the shoulder. "Let's go." Thomas' voice was no longer cheery. She seemed genuinely saddened at the sight of what had happened to Tiki, though it didn't prevent her from doing her job. "I can't look at this anymore. Just pay the mercenary and let's get out of here."

Yuri nodded and turned to the woman with the leather jacket. "Anita. Pay the mercenary."

Anita nodded and waited for Yuri and Thomas to step away before turning to the man with the cape. "Semyonov, pay the man."

"What?! Yuri told you to do it!"

"And I'm telling you."

Anita left, and Semyonov tried turning to the man in the bear pelt. "Cole, pay the-"

"Nice try."

"Hwal'chag, pay the-"

"No." The woman in the beret replied bluntly as she and Cole departed. Semyonov turned to the woman with the strange glowing eyes, but she just patted him on the shoulder and left before he could even ask. The man looked to his comrades in annoyance as they walked away with Thomas, and he glared at Yuri in particular.

"Гроша не стоит, а глядит рублем."

"W-what?!" Vasto asked. He'd never heard anything like the language Semyonov occasionally spoke, but he had heard of the Grimleal bringing people from far away lands.

"Oh, just the language of my motherland. Nothing like the barbaric tongue you people bark out here. Now let's get to business. You want to get paid right? What'd they offer you? Thirty thousand?"

"T-thirty million, actually."

"Ha, come on! I'm fucking with you, merc! Follow me now. Let's make you a rich man among dirt farmers." Vasto followed Semyonov away from the cell and felt his guilt melt away as Tiki's tortured gaze finally left him. Vasto knew he was not absolved from what he was doing, and he had to think the same justification over and over to calm himself. It was for the good of the Arch Surg. Vasto walked for a ways before he looked back to see Semyonov glaring at him. Without realizing it he'd fallen behind. "By all means, Plegian! Move like a slave to the branding iron!"

"Sorry."

"You'd think one would be excited to collect thirty million."

"R-right." Vasto's eyes widened as he actually contemplated Semyonov's words. "How did you know I'm Plegian?"

"I'm SOG. It's my job to know things. I know it by how you talk. How you hold yourself. Even by how you walk."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh I'm sorry. Apologies for offending your preconceived notions!" Semyonov shot back. "Which one of us here is the highly trained black ops, and which one is the shit for brains fop who got lucky?"

"Well… you certainly have an interesting idea of professionalism."

Semyonov chuckled. "Oh we're nothing like regular soldiers."

"Really? Who exactly are you?"

Semyonov seemed far more eager to tell his story than Yuri. "Nice try. I won't tell you anything about our organization that Yuri didn't tell you, and I already know what he told you. Nothing."

"He told me the name of your organization."

"Alright. I guess he did tell you something. Got me in a pedantic technicality there. Nice. I won't tell you anything about us. Loose lips sink giant floating dragons after all." Semyonov turned back and gave a friendly, though slightly unnerving smile. "I'll tell you about me though. I've got a few names. To some in the politburo I'm just SOG Unit 455-45. To my people I'm the White Death. To some people here I'm the Captain of коготь Company. My personal favorite is a title other more easily frightened members of the politburo gave me. The Reaper of Themis."

"What'd you do to get that name?!"

"The people of Themis could tell you if any of them were still around. Now let me tell you a bit about myself. I was born in the far away land of Novoskr. Beautiful country. Nice cold weather. Good food. Good music. And the women… oh! They could drain a horse dry!"

"Umm… okay."

"Anyways, when I was just a wee little thing, my mother said I'd do great things. She said that in between beatings. Eventually I grew up, realized I could overpower her, and put a knife through her eye. Then I tracked down my deadbeat dad and got him too. Then I became a mercenary, earning forty seven confirmed kills and twenty seven unconfirmed before I was arrested and taken to a maximum security prison in the capital. Nice place. Gated communities where peasants couldn't enter. That's how you can tell it was a really nice place. Anyways I stay there until the King himself pays me a visit. He tells me my skills shouldn't be wasted, and he tells me the monarchy has enemies it needs neutralized. He basically hires me as a criminal for the authority, and in the King's name I had one hundred and forty seven confirmed kills, fifty six unconfirmed, and three of the four princesses. The other one was only eleven." The SOG was almost giddy as he recounted his exploits, but he became momentarily saddened. "Then the Grimleal came to our continent. See the Grimleal took over a lot of countries by working with local rebellions. Novoskr had a group of rebels trying to overthrow the King. They wanted to make a worker's paradise or some horseshit like that. The Grimleal helped them overthrow the monarchy, then had them rule as a puppet government. They publicly executed the entire royal family. Even the children." Semyonov took a few seconds to collect himself before continuing. He notably took a jeweled pendant from underneath his shirt and gently kissed it before putting it back where it was. "I didn't have anything left, so I went around killing revolutionary and Grimleal forces. I got at least a hundred of them… but I honestly stopped counting. Eventually they finally got me, and they were mad. Heh, they wanted to cut off my balls, gut me, and have my corpse strung up by my entrails. Inquisitor Thomas came to see me before they could though. Once again my skills were too good to be put to waste, and now I work here."

"You work for the government that took over your homeland?"

"In case you haven't noticed, merc, I don't work with the regular army or any idiot Lord Lieutenant. I work for a high power. A greater future for the human race. Besides I'm here because I refuse to return to Novoskr. Not so long as those idiots are in power there. Thomas says she'll ask High Inquisitor Aversa really nicely if I can personally kill them the same way they once killed the princesses… but I'm not counting on that. Any other questions?"

"Uhh… did you get to keep your balls?"

"Держи свои яйца, говорит он! Ha! I like this Plegian!" Semyonov continued walking, chuckling to himself all the way, until he finally reached a carriage several SOG members had just recently brought up. Two SOG agents walked over to Semyonov, and he began shouting at them. "You two! Get the carriage ready to move!"

"Yes." One of the men said in an annoyed tone. "We did that already."

"Well. Aren't you two fucking geniuses. Do you want a medal? Smartest dipshits in the Grimleal?"

"Well… you SOG _certainly_ have an interesting idea of professionalism."

"Merc, if I want your half-baked, whisky drunk opinion I'll ask for it. Now do you want your money or not?" One of the SOG agents opened up the back of the carriage, and Vasto's jaw dropped as if it had suddenly been unhinged. Thirty million gold weighed down the back of the carriage. It was all packed into several heavy chests, the ones in the back opened to show the gold itself inside. Vasto had never seen so much wealth in his life. Even a single chest was more than his mother had ever made while raising him. Semyonov noticed Vasto's reaction and laughed even more. "Don't spend it all in one place. You'll break the local economy." Semyonov almost turned to leave, but then stopped. "One last thing, merc. Come here." Vasto froze, and Semyonov just waved him closer. "Come here." He said softly but firmly. "Come here." Vasto finally walked closer to him, and Semyonov placed his hand on Vasto's shoulder in a way that was anything but reassuring. "I know you just did this for the money, but the Grimleal needed her captured for a reason. You've done us a great service. You're a hero to humanity. Never let anyone tell you any different."

"R-right." Vasto signaled to the other wyvern riders, and everyone met by the carriage. Within minutes the group was ready to depart, but Vasto was silent the entire time. An Arch Surg soldier beside him took up the reigns and prepared to leave, and he turned at Vasto's silence to see him staring at his feet.

"I can't believe it! We did it! We actually got away with that! Come on, boss! What's the problem?"

"Leave me alone." Vasto almost whispered.

"What's wrong? You think they're onto us?"

"No. Nothing like that." Vasto looked over to Tiki's mobile cell to see the SOG agents and the Inquisitor buzzing around it. He was just glad the gaze of the tortured woman inside couldn't fall on him. "It's just… are we doing the right thing?"

"The Arch Surg needs this money, boss. Plus we'll look good in front of Archangel. You might even get a promotion. You'll be just as respected as Pheros, Farber, Stanforth, or any of those other officers."

"Right. It's just… it's not every day you sell a god into slavery. What… what have I done?"

Meanwhile Yuri and Anita stared down Tiki as she solemnly hung her head. The two spoke to each other without ever looking away. Her every move was of great interest to them. When she did bring her tear filled eyes up to meet theirs, they gave her back entirely apathetic looks. "Yuri?" Anita asked softly. "Do you know what you just presided over?"

"I had thirty million gold given to an Arch Surg soldier pretending to be a mercenary. He'll use the money to fund their war effort. Yes I know what I've done."

"If you knew, then why did you let it happen?"

"Wars are not won by focusing on small battles, Anita. Wars are won by grand operations. By not losing sight of the big picture. Thirty million gold to a rebel movement is a small price to pay. Besides, we can use this opportunity to sabotage them. We'll have third party merchants offer them tempting weapons and supply deals. They'll spend the money, returning it to us, and in turn will be given sabotaged weapons and poisoned supplies."

"What if that doesn't work?"

"It really doesn't matter. What truly matters is her. Grima will be very interested in her." Tiki's eyes widened and she couldn't help but let out a muffled scream. The sound was barely audible over her gag, but the Grimleal agent heard it. Yuri removed his sunglasses and gave a piercing stare. "Oh no, my dear sweet Voice of Naga." He said in a disturbingly soft tone. "Save your breath. You're going to need it where you're going."

* * *

Inquisitor Thomas and the SOG agents didn't know exactly how the "mercenaries" would transport Tiki, and they found themselves unable to move the massive cell they had been burdened with. Instead they decided to simply hold the position until Grimleal personnel teleported in via the Faraskjótr to relieve them. Thomas herself was standing some distance away from the cell. Originally it was to have a private conversation with High Inquisitor Aversa, though she needed Anita's help to use the farakveða tome, but she stayed over there long after Aversa had confirmed her orders because she couldn't bear to look at Tiki. It was agonizing to see a woman that had done so much for humanity in the past treated this way, but Thomas had her orders. Grima's will had to be enacted, and Thomas couldn't fathom betraying them. The Grimleal had saved her from her father once. How could she repay them with treachery? Thomas just kept her thoughts to herself until the Faraskjótr finally brought in Grimleal forces, but it wasn't anyone Thomas was expecting. Instead of sending Inquisitors, Al-Amin had deposited Anointed Ones.

Meanwhile Anita and Semyonov causally had a conversation, while in the background Tiki was either feigning unconsciousness or had genuinely passed out. Anita still glanced over to her occasionally, and she only half paid attention to Semyonov. "So who do you think did more? Marth's group, or the Shepherds?"

"Oh for Grima's sake, I told you I don't follow the myths of this stupid continent."

"They're not myths. These were real people. Some of the Shepherds are even still around."

"Who cares. All I know about the history of this continent is that Grima was defeated a thousand years ago, but was resurrected here. I also know that this continent, especially Ylisse, has a ridiculous hard on for the Hero King."

"What do you mean?"

"They have a cult of personality built around him! They're always going on and on about the Hero King! 'Oh Marth was such a great person! He did this! He did that! Oh if only he were still alive so that I could ride his cock into next week!' They never shut up about him." Semyonov laughed. "I've also heard about Lucina. S-she used to go around calling herself Marth! I mean holy gods-damned shit! She's the future heir to the Ylissean throne, and she runs around dressed like a man calling herself Marth! No one questions it! 'Oh yeah, everything's normal. Princess is a crazy cross dressing weirdo? Oh yeah, no biggie. Hardly the weirdest thing the royal family had ever done.' What do you think was up with her? Inbred? Closeted homosexual? Traumatized child soldier calling out for mommy and daddy? A little of all three?"

Anita just shook her head. "Don't let Thomas hear you talking like that. She wouldn't wear women's clothing to save her life."

"Ah it's different when she does it."

"How so."

"She pays me. She also saved my family jewels. I'd call Lucina anything she wanted if she did that for me, but she didn't. She just went around killing people and pissing off the Fell Dragon, and now we all pay for it. Blue haired fuck."

"Are you sure you're not just jealous. This continent has important people, while yours is insignificant."

"That's not true. There are people-"

"Don't tell me another story about Novoskr."

"Oh sure. Everyone wants to hear about Ylisse, but no one wants to hear about Novoskr. Yeah, okay. Sure. That's real fair. No, no that's real fucking fair."

The two turned to see Thomas approaching, and Cole, Yuri, Hwal'chag, and the woman with the glowing eyes all stood to greet her. Thomas pointed to the robed men and women behind her, and everyone tensed up. "Anointed Ones?" Anita asked.

"We weren't informed of this." Semyonov complained. Thomas gave him an annoyed glance.

"You think I was?! They shouldn't be here for anything major. Even if the Hierophant is with them, the Fell Dragon should be pleased with us. We're not in trouble."

"Все на солнце ровно глядим - неровно пьём и едим."

"I told you not to speak that gobbledygook in front of me! I need to understand what you're saying!"

"Stupid idiot." Semyonov spat.

"Much better." Thomas replied sarcastically.

Thomas and the SOG finally turned as the Anointed Ones approached. To everyone's dismay, the casket containing the Hierophant's body was there. The Anointed Ones stopped and gently set the casket on the ground, and a woman stepped forward. Her robes were more ornate than the others, with reflective golden stripes and ornate designs. The robes were primarily gold and white in color, though the woman's affiliation was clear as the Mark of Grima was on the front of the robe. The middle aged woman had a peaceful expression on her face. She had long curly brown hair and wrinkles that only seemed to add to the woman's friendly appearance. The serenity and grace of her look was completely dissonant to her occupation. To the evil that she tended to. "Inquisitor Thomas. So nice to see you again, dearie."

"Mother Margaret." The two woman hugged and quickly kissed the air by each other's cheeks. "May the light shine forever by your spirit. May it take you to our promised land."

"And may the light be with you. I hope you're not doing anything too dangerous."

"Oh I try to stay out of that kind of thing. I have my strapping SOG boys and girls to help me. They get the job done and I don't ask questions about their very questionable methods."

"We're standing right here." Semyonov said. Thomas rolled her eyes.

"Sorry I can't understand you. It's that thick Wielklavian accent you have."

"Wielklavia is the bumfuck country your pal Dartsmoth is from. I'm from-"

"Yeah no, no sorry. I don't speak mail order bride. Anyways continue, Margaret?"

Before Margaret could continue, a banging noise emanated from the casket. Everyone turned in a panic, fearful that the Fell Dragon had caught them unprepared. The casket was forced open and the Hierophant's body did burst out of it, but it was clear that the Fell Dragon wasn't controlling him at all. "Gah! I can't see! I can't see anything!"

Thomas and the SOG agents jumped back in shock. Anita and Semyonov even instinctively drew their tome and pistol respectively. Margaret rushed forward and put her hand on the man's chest, keeping him from sitting up any further. "Shh. Shh."

"Where am I?!"

"It's okay." She whispered. "It's okay."

The man's voice was completely human. He seemed to be Robin, the man that became the Hierophant. Thomas was shocked into complete silence. She'd always been told that Robin was gone. That it was impossible for him to wake up. Margaret continued to press down on his chest, gently but surely trying to make him lay back down. "Where's Chrom?! Where's Morgan?! Where am I?!"

"Shh. Calm down." Margaret put her hand on his cheek. "Everything's alright. Hush my child, lay down your sword. Worry not of the Risen horde. The Fell Dragon is as a mother bird. The light will shine down through its word."

The Hierophant slowly calmed down, and eventually laid back into the casket. He went back to being motionless, as if he had never moved. "What the hell was that?!" Thomas exclaimed. "I thought his will was stripped away!"

"Oh it is. That happens once in a blue moon right before the Fell Dragon possesses him."

"So Grima is coming? I thought they'd send someone like Aversa, or Altman, or a Lord Lieutenant."

"No. Grima wants to deal with her personally."

Thomas became nervous and looked down to the Hierophant's body. His eyes had been gouged out, apparently by Validar himself after he was captured and brought before the Grimleal. Other than that he was a normal middle aged man. Thomas couldn't help but think that he looked very peaceful, even handsome. The only other strange thing about him was the complete lack of clothing. "So this is the man that caused the old Grimleal so much harm. This is the man old Chrom boy cared so much about. Why… why is he naked?"

"You think I enjoy staring at his junk all day? We tried clothing him, but his clothes burn off whenever the Fell Dragon possesses the body. Replaced by that strange armor it creates from dark magic."

"I can't say I envy your job, Margaret."

Margaret looked back to the SOG. "I can't say I envy yours, but we all serve in one way or another."

Everyone turned back to the casket as a brilliant purple light began to flood out of it, and this time there was no mistake about what was happening. Everyone present immediately fell to one knee and stared at the ground until the possession was complete. As the highest ranking agent there, Thomas was the first and only one to look up when the light finally faded. The Hierophant was standing over her, but six blood red eyes covered his face. The Fell Dragon was undeniably in front of her. "L-lord Grima."

"Enough with this display of human acquiescence. On your feet. All of you." Thomas and the others present rose, but Grima ignored them. It simply walked straight over to Tiki's cell, and a smile of all things crept across the Hierophant's face as Grima put its gaze down on Tiki. Tiki herself began to panic and struggle in her bonds. Thomas could only wonder what she was feeling, but she noticed that Tiki didn't make any noise. Maybe she was too frightened. Maybe she was too furious. Maybe she was too horrified at the sight of what had become of her ally. Grima went so far as to give off a laugh. It was as horrifying as it was brief. Thomas wondered if it only laughed because it had possessed the Hierophant, but the noise itself was inhuman. "At long last. Come, child of my timeless foe. On your feet." The Hierophant waved his hand, and Tiki's heavy metal bindings came off. The ones that didn't loosen easily were literally torn apart. Everyone took a step back at this display of power, and Tiki slowly walked forward. She couldn't help but take advantage of her newly regained freedom of movement, but she tried to stay away from Grima. Her gag remained, but she didn't attempt to make a sound. Margaret seemed more concerned than anyone, and she stepped forward.

"Lord Grima, are you sure that's safe? Should you keep her restrained? This represents a security risk."

Grima walked over to Margaret, slowly stepping closer until it was well within her personal space. "Do you think me incapable of defending myself? Do you think I am restrained by this pathetic form?"

Margaret was nigh speechless. She knew what could easily happen to her. "Of course not, Lord Grima." She stuttered.

Grima put the Hierophant's hand on her chest, and purple energy slowly flowed into her body. "Then be _quiet_." An instant later, Margaret was sent flying about five meters backward. No one said anything else after that, and Grima simply turned back to Tiki and a mortified Thomas. Without saying anything Grima shoved Thomas back until she was standing next to Tiki, and then the Fell Dragon put the Hierophant's arms around both. The two women stood in mutual terror as a purple light enveloped them and spacetime itself began to distort. A blinding light enveloped the area, and then they were gone.

Semyonov ran over to Margaret and extended his arm. "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah." Margaret took his arm and rose to her feet. "Yeah, I'm fine. I wouldn't be doing this job if I couldn't take a few hits from the Fell Dragon."

"I didn't know it could just teleport like that. Why even have the Anointed Ones carry around the Hierophant's body?"

"The Hierophant's body can only handle so much of the Fell Dragon's power. Besides, I don't want to make Grima think that we're useless. Job security and all that."

* * *

Grima brought the Hierophant's body into a large underground chamber, Thomas and Tiki coming with it as the Fell Dragon's power bent the fabric of reality. Grima callously flung both women forward, though it bothered to use telekinesis to keep Thomas from losing her footing. Tiki was thrown to the cold, damp stone floor. The first thing she noticed as she brought her head back up was how unnatural the light in the area was. The cavern she found herself extended at least eighty meters into the Earth's surface, and Tiki noticed she was actually on a bridge of some kind. Below her was a dark chasm that went even further into the planet. The area was lit only by strange floating balls of magical energy that bathed everyone present in a bluish light. Sunlight just peeked through cracks in the cavern ceiling, but it was only enough light to remind you that the outside world did still exist in this strange environment. It looked like the cavern had once had a natural opening, but the Grimleal had covered it. In front of Tiki was a massive metal contraption that the bridge lead directly to. The machine rose all the way to the ceiling and extended into the darkness below, and it seemed to be solid metal. Tiki honestly never thought humans were advanced enough to build anything like it, and she couldn't begin to comprehend its design or purpose. She only recognized a small capsule at the end of the bridge large enough for a human to fit inside of.

Standing in front of the machine was a frail middle aged man, his sickly pale skin hidden behind heavy cloth. Strangely it was the kind of clothing normally worn under plate armor, though this man looked like no soldier. He was startled by the Fell Dragon's appearance, but he seemed assured at the sight of Tiki. The man did not smile or show any other signs of happiness, but the man's expression indicated that the very sight of her was as if years of work and toil had paid off. The man couldn't take his eyes off of Tiki until the Fell Dragon had gotten well within his personal space. Tiki tried to look away, but no one constituted a more pleasant sight. Though dragged along with her, Thomas only gave Tiki a stern look and tried to seem tough. She made it clear where her allegiance stood. Behind Tiki were armored men with arquebuses, and they pulled back the hammers on their firearms when she noticed them. Without her dragonstone, Tiki couldn't easily transform into her true form. Even if she could, she didn't know if bullets could really hurt her or not, and she was always afraid to find out. She tried her best to steel herself and hold her body with some dignity. "Mother." She whispered. "Please help me."

Grima stepped closer to the middle aged pale skinned man until he knelt down. "Lord Grima. I can't say your arrival at this particular moment is expected, but I assure you the machine is ready."

"This had better work, human."

"The machine is… not entirely finished." The Hierophant's face twisted with anger, and the man quickly straightened himself. "But it should be able to contain Tiki's power. The Pommel shall be activated, and in time we will have our blade."

"Be ready to activate it. I wish to speak with Tiki alone."

The man's stoic face showed some signs of confusion. "Lord Grima… where am I supposed to-"

Without saying anything more Grima put the Hierophant's hand on the man's shoulder and made his body disappear in a flash of energy. A second later, Thomas and the two guards also vanished. Somehow the Grimleal agents had made Tiki feel more secure. Hostile as they were, they were still humans. She was used to being with humans. Now she stood alone with an ancient evil that even she did not understand, and no human stood by her side this time. A surge of fear, a thousand times worse than what she had felt when she learned about what would happen to her, overwhelmed her. This time she could not control it. "Mother please!" She stuttered against her gag in a louder voice than she intended. Grima turned back to her and slowly approached, and Tiki felt her panic rise with every step. To her surprise, the gag left in her mouth was telekinetically ripped off a moment later. Again the Fell Dragon brought the Hierophant's face into a twisted smile, nothing like the friendly look Robin had once had. "Child of my enemy, I offer you no forgiveness. The sins of the _mother_ are passed on to the _daughter_."

Tiki focused on her rage and frustration. Anything to calm her fear. This was no demon. This was just an enemy. She could stand up for herself, just as she had once done before Medeus. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"I need not your fear."

"What do you want?" Tiki almost wanted to go silent as she looked into the six blood red eyes, but she forced herself to power through it. She forced herself to yell. "What do you want with me?! Thirty years ago you sent Risen to kill me, but now you want me alive. Why?!"

"You and I are not so different, Tiki."

"W-what?"

"You think me an abomination, but you could be like me. Like your mother. If only you knew the power that you have inside you."

"You're nothing like my mother!"

"You've been with the humans too long. You've been in that disgusting form too long. You've forgotten what you truly are. Naga is nothing like the humans." Grima paced back and forth. "Did you know that your mother used to be male?"

"H-huh?!"

"Or at least the humans used to perceive her as male. Naga was the Divine Dragon King. This Naga was never known to have a human form. This Naga died, long before you were old enough to remember."

"My mother is not dead!"

"No. Two thousand years later she is reincarnated as a woman named Nagi, and helps the Hero King against Medeus. Then the years go by, and Naga is reborn as a woman devoid of physical form. The humans in their short sightedness have forgotten. Now they say Naga was always female. Now they say Naga never died."

"What are you saying?!"

"When so many of your kind succumbed to degeneration or were killed by the humans, your mother has survived. She is no longer limited to a biological form. She has achieved a higher plane of existence. Am I so different? I did not die when the First Exalt struck me down. I cannot truly die. I too have achieved a higher state of being. You, Tiki, are the alien among us. You have this power too, but you think of yourself as a human. You limit yourself to the weaknesses of that form."

"You're nothing like Naga, and you have no right to speak of my mother!"

Grima gave Tiki no pause. It simply continued everytime she finished speaking. "Do you know where I'm from?"

"No. No one does."

"Thabes. Thousands of years ago there was an ancient city state more advanced than any human civilization that has ever existed since. It was built on the corpse of Naga, Tiki. That's how the humans there became so advanced. They took power from his remains! Do you think the humans became so advanced on their own?! They can't even figure out how to live past biological death! They can't go more than a few hours without thinking with their stomachs!"

Tiki had heard of Thabes, and the legends of things lurking in the ruins. "The human civilization?!"

"There was once a man named Forneus. The Mad Alchemist of Thabes. He sought to create the perfect lifeform. To that end he mixed his blood with that of a Divine Dragon. Where do you think he got that divine blood?" Tiki's eyes widened as she realized what the Fell Dragon was saying. "I come from Naga's blood too. The humans would call us siblings."

"No. N-no. No, no, no! You're nothing like me! You're not a dragon! You're an abomination!"

"We are both offspring of the same progenitor. Join your voice with mine, and we shall sing a chorus of victory _everlasting_!"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

"You're not a fool! Not like the humans. Think. Why am I telling you these things?"

"Because you're an aberration!"

"Because I want you to understand what you are. All the power that I have, that your mother has, you could have it too. Do not think you are limited to the constraints of that human form."

Tiki looked down to her body. Grima was right. She had grown so used to it, and she didn't even view her true form as her real self. Though deep down she did feel weakened and restricted in her human form, it also felt right to her. As a human she had made friends and allies. As a dragon she had only brought fear, and long had she been told of how dangerous it would be if she lost control of her power. "Why do you hate the humans so much, Grima? What could they possibly have done to you?"

"I do not hate them."

"You're trying to destroy them!"

"I spared them."

"You call this regime mercy?!"

"Yes." It replied bluntly.

"You tried to destroy humanity in Lucina's timeline."

"That was a different Grima."

"Y-you expect me to believe there are two Grimas?!"

"There were, but the other Grima and I… reached an agreement. "

"Don't dodge my question. Why do you hate humanity?!"

"I do not hate them. Does the storm hate the landscape? Does the sun hate the night? It is simple change. Evolution. Superior lifeforms thrive, and inferior lifeforms go extinct. I am the superior lifeform. Once the humans took the world from the dragons. Now I will take the world from them."

"How does this justify what you've done to them."

"Your sympathy for them is misplaced. The humans fear what they do not understand. Medeus was the only Earth Dragon to side with Naga, and he agreed to allow the human race to dominate the world. For centuries he watched as the humans tortured and persecuted the few manaketes that remained, and they dare to call him a demon because he tried to put a stop to it. Loptyr wanted to preserve the heritage of the Earth Dragons, and they call him a monster for it. Naga chose to guide the humans, but they turned on the surviving Divine Dragons as soon as Naga was gone! Now they dare to worship her as a benevolent god. They dare to call themselves her chosen people! The only reason why they don't hate and fear you like they do the others is because you sleep for so long, and because you spend so much time in a human form. Just look at how quickly they turned on you. For everything you've done for them, all it took was the promise of material wealth for them to fall over themselves hunting for you!" Tiki didn't have an answer for that, and Grima continued. "They're primitive, disgusting beasts! They scratch the surface of intelligence, but they're animals! They talk of higher concepts but primarily care about little more than food, sleep, and shelter. They sing of love but fantasize of rape. They call themselves civilized but commit atrocities against each other. They have proliferated in both numbers and destructive capacity, but they are still just barbaric, savage creatures. How long before they ruin the planet itself? How long before they build weapons that irradiate the atmosphere and boil away the oceans? How long before they venture into the stars and spread their wars to the cosmos? They're a blight! Naga's mistake was allowing them to run around without limitations. I will not make that same mistake."

Tiki gave Grima a defiant look. "You have no right to do this. They're a part of nature."

"What is man in nature? A nothing in relation to infinity, all in relation to nothing, a central point between nothing and all and infinitely far from understanding either. The ends of things and their beginnings are impregnably concealed from him in an impenetrable secret. He is equally incapable of seeing the nothingness out of which he was drawn and the infinite in which he is engulfed."

"W-what?!"

"I see I've reached your capacity to follow this conversation. Your intellect is capable of grasping how I see the world, but you've been with the humans too long. I tell you these things because I feel that one day you will understand as I do. As your mother does."

"Do you really think I'd ever help you?!"

"Not right now. For the foreseeable future, your destiny lies within that machine. One day I will let you out, and perhaps we can have a meaningful discussion then."

Without warning, Grima telekinetically seized Tiki and lifted her into the air. It then telekinetically ripped off the door to the capsule in front of the machine and sent it rocketing away before seizing it in midair. Grima then moved Tiki closer to the machine, and again she couldn't contain her resurgent fear. She struggled as much as she could, but there was nothing she could do. "Mother! Please!" She managed to say before Grima forced her into the capsule. The Fell Dragon then hurtled the door back and used magical energy to weld it permanently into place. Grima then waved the Hierophant's arm, and Thomas, the middle aged man, and the two guards materialized from thin air. Thomas patted herself down with a startled expression on her face.

"What just happened to me?!"

The man was also shocked, but he was more composed when the Fell Dragon turned to him. "Activate the machine."

"At once, Lord Grima. At last The Pommel will be complete." The man drew a tome and fired blasts of dark magic at several points on the machine. Slowly lines of dark magic began to pulsate on the machine, and a noise that grew more and more severe by the second erupted from the metal until a blinding flash of blue light appeared from the capsule. Tiki could be heard screaming in agony for a moment before the noises of the machine drowned her out. Thomas was physically shaken at the sight, but the man smiled. "We've… done it. The power of a Divine Dragon. Ours to use."

"You've done well, human. Continue your work." With that, Grima once again teleported away. This time Thomas was left behind.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah sure. Yeah that's fine. Just leave me here. Yeah sure, okay! It's not like I needed to go back or anything! No I'll just teleport back… oh wait! I can't! Stupid dragon!" Thomas sighed and turned back to the man, who was looking intently at his machine. Thomas stepped closer to him, and to her dismay the sounds of Tiki's screams were barely audible over the machine. She couldn't imagine what was happening to her in the sealed capsule. "Bernitz-Heimeroth?"

Bernitz-Heimeroth was a Ylissean nobleman of House Heimeroth-Holztenstein. He was recognized as a prodigy as a child. He would go on to attend university in both Ylisse and Plegia, graduating with degrees in several fields of engineering. For years he was the head engineer of Weapons Development. Every design for a Grimleal weapon, from ships to arquebuses, passed by his eyes at some point. Recently however he was transferred to the head of Special Projects. No one knew exactly what he did. Only that he was constantly working on some kind of machine and that he reported directly to Grima. Thomas no longer had to wonder about the machine. Thomas turned her eyes away from her as the horrible thoughts of what might be happening to Tiki became too much for her, but Bernitz-Heimeroth himself wasn't a much more calming sight. The man's skin was a sickly pale from a complete lack of sunlight. The man never stepped foot outside, and used the Faraskjótr to move from installation to installation. There was very good reason for this, but Thomas didn't think it was a good way to live. "Yes?" The man replied in an emotionless tone. Thomas couldn't help but think that he and Al-Amin would get along just fine.

"I need your help contacting Al-Amin so I can Faraskjótr out of here once it's done charging."

"Of course."

Thomas turned to the machine. "What is it doing to her?"

"Extracting her divine power."

"Is it… hurting her?"

"Yes." Bernitz-Heimeroth looked down to Thomas. "Do not be fooled by her form. She can take far more than us, and your empathy for her is misplaced."

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing here, Bernie-Heimie? Tiki has done a lot for us. How can we treat her like this?"

"We need her energy for Project: Xenologue and Project: Excalibur. These operations will bring a new age for humanity. The human spirit will be as a wind that will blow through the gates to the promised future, and it is by the countenance and edification of the Fell Dragon that we achieve this. We need only the ship to carry us to that fabled island."

"Did all those university degrees make you like this, or were you always off your ass crazy?"

"We need not bicker, Inquisitor Thomas. We both serve the light."


	34. The Calm Before the Storm

"Don't just slash at me, Soleil! Your every move must be part of a greater strategy! You must always be planning ahead!"

Chrom constantly gave Soleil advice as the two sparred. They had been going for several minutes now, and Soleil was becoming tired and frustrated. At first she was happy to receive training from Chrom, but she didn't realize how much work it would actually be. More than that, she was increasingly frustrated at Chrom's constant criticisms. He had a comment for everything she did. "Don't take such wide slashes! Use more efficient movements. Your feet are too far apart. You're holding your sword too tightly!" Soleil was only half listening at this point. In the face of Chrom's constant criticisms, Soleil tried to fight more aggressively and prove her skill. To her dismay she was only shown how much she had to learn for her efforts. Despite not really trying, and despite having over twenty years on Soleil, Chrom completely outmatched her. He was almost as strong with one arm as she was with two, and she could almost feel her steel sword strain everytime it made contact with the Falchion, but beyond that Chrom was just far more skilled than her. He was faster, more agile, and he always knew what Soleil was about to do. Whenever she thought she finally had him, she'd quickly learn it was only a feint, part of a larger maneuver, or that Chrom was trying to give her an opportunity. By now Soleil had devolved into just angrily swinging away at Chrom, and her rage eroded away at the grace and focus of her form. This only drew more criticism as Chrom didn't see how angry Soleil was becoming. "Come on, Soleil! Are you listening? Control my center line! Don't rely so much on your arm shield. Use your sword to defend yourself, but don't block with the sharp part of your blade. Watch out for feints. Keep your focus. You're still holding your sword too tightly!"

"SHUT UP!" Soleil finally snapped. She threw herself at Chrom in a furious attempt to hit him at least once, and Chrom realized how upset he'd unintentionally made her. Even then he criticized her form.

"Fighting with such a lack of focus will only cause you to make mistakes that your enemy can exploit." To prove his point, Chrom focused on only defending himself from Soleil's attacks. He was able to easily sidestep and dodge most of them, and only occasionally had to raise his Falchion to block them. Soleil continued to ignore him, and Chrom finally gave up on talking to her. Instead he simply took a slash at Soleil and knocked the blade from her hands. "Now you're holding your sword too loosely."

Soleil's face was bright red at this point, and the sparring made her so upset that her voice came out scratchy. "This isn't fair! I wanted you to train me, not bully me!"

"Bully you?"

"You find fault with everything I do! Let me tell you something, buddy. I've been fighting for years. You think I'm weak and a slacker, and that I'm not serious about this war, but you're wrong! I was just fine without you! I'm just fine without your constant nagging! You're as bad as Cordelia was!" Chrom's first instinct in the face of this yelling was to get angry himself, but he took deep breaths and remembered that Soleil was just frustrated. He patiently waited for her to finish venting, and then gently put his hand on her shoulder.

"Just… hang in there, Soleil. You'll get better. In fact I think you've made improvement already."

Chrom's friendliness disarmed Soleil, and she slowly calmed down. "Really?"

"Yes. You are a skilled fighter, Soleil, and I appreciate the chance to fight by your side. I just want to help you."

Soleil's rage turned to embarrassment as she tried returning to a playful and cheery demeanor. "Thank you. Sorry I was just tired. Thank you… and thank you for training with me… a-and Cordelia was a good teacher! Really!"

Chrom put on a smile for Soleil, but the pleasant memories of Cordelia only brought out bitterness from her loss. "So you three trained with Cordelia?"

"Yeah. Tiki brought us to her after we met her, and that's also when we met Caeldori. She trained us for years before we went out to do, well, whatever we could against the Grimleal. We tried not to see her much because we didn't want the Grimleal to find her, but we could still use her homestead to rest and train if we needed to. The two of us didn't always get along. I like to have fun, she was always strict and serious… but I miss her."

"I know I wasn't with her long after seeing her again… but I know she loved you. All three of you. Even if you two did argue… she cared a lot about you, Soleil."

"Thank you." Soleil put on a smile of her own. "So any more advice, old man?"

"Well… I do think you could be stronger. Maybe I can show you some exercises later?"

"Uhh-"

"And we'll need to start watching your diet. Are you getting enough protein?"

"I uh-"

"And are you getting a full night's sleep?"

"Yeesh, alright! Alright! I didn't mean bombard me with stuff like that! I got it, dad!"

Chrom froze. "W-what?"

"I got it. You know, I get your message? No need to overwhelm me with specific advice."

"No… what did you just call me?"

"Dad?" Soleil smiled wider, though it was an attempt to defuse the situation. It was clear that she'd upset him somehow. "It was a joke! Because you were telling me what to do? It… it's funny!" Soleil nudged Chrom a few times. "Come on!"

"That's not funny, Soleil!"

Soleil seemed more confused than anything. "I-I'm sorry?"

Chrom took a deep breath. "N-no. I'm sorry. It's just… for a moment… I saw someone else's face in yours."

"What?"

Chrom sheathed the Falchion and turned around. "Look… we'll do this again later. I'm done for now."

"Okay…" Soleil retrieved her own sword, and turned back to see that Chrom was already walking towards Isaiah's homestead. "Wait! You're not mad are you?!" There was no way Chrom didn't hear Soleil. He just walked faster, leaving Soleil by herself. Though she was only a short ways from the home, she felt as if she'd been left alone in the middle of the badlands. "I'm sorry! Chrom?! ...Chrom?"

* * *

By coincidence, Henry and Ophelia had also decided to practice at this time on the other end of the homestead. Like Soleil, Ophelia had mixed feelings about practicing with her former Shepherd companion. By contrast, her apprehension came before it even started. Though happy to learn from an experienced mage, Ophelia couldn't shake the subtle feeling of dread she felt whenever she looked at her grandfather. Henry gave her the same cheery expression as ever, but Ophelia couldn't help but remember the people he'd killed right in front of her with that same expression on his face. "Anyways, that's why we should focus on your resistance." Henry continued. Ophelia was only half listening to him. It wasn't that she found what he was saying uninteresting, but rather she was concentrating heavily on suppressing her own fear. Ophelia thought to herself that her own grandfather would never hurt her, but she had to think this repeatedly to calm herself. Unfortunately that kept her from really hearing Henry speak, and so she was completely unprepared for a spell he sent hurtling at her. Ophelia rocketed to the side to avoid it, a face full of dirt waiting for her as she hit the ground. "I guess you weren't ready for that one. Are you listening to me?"

"Gah!" Ophelia sprung to her feet and readied herself to move again at any moment. "Why are you attacking me?!"

"Because we're training, silly. Remember? We're going to work on your magical resistance. There are a lot of dark mages in the Grimleal, and you need to be able to defend yourself against them." Henry raised his arm, and magical energy crackled off of it. "Now are you ready?"

"N-no! NO!"

"Here it comes!" Henry flicked his wrist and sent a lightning bolt at his granddaughter. Ophelia quickly mustered magical energy into her own hands to create a force field of sorts, and she used this to absorb most of the attack's power before managing to fling it away. The lightning bolt arced into the ground, its heat literally fusing the sand together. "Good!" Henry cheered, oblivious to Ophelia's terror. "You deflected it!"

"I said I wasn't ready!" Ophelia shouted back.

"That's why I sent it at you! Your enemies will be attacking you when you're not ready, and we have to be realistic, nya ha ha!"

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" Ophelia looked back to her hands to find them lightly burned. Deflecting spells wasn't like simply blocking with a shield. She was still somewhat injured by the strain of the attack, and Henry hadn't really gone easy on her. She'd have been knocked out had the attack hit her entirely. "I-I don't think we should train like this."

"But we're practicing defending against spells. I'll be throwing right at cha!" Henry made a finger gun with his right hand and fired a magical blast just strong enough to sting Ophelia. "Pow! Ha ha!"

"Ow! Stop! I-I wasn't listening!"

"Huh?"

Ophelia briefly felt guilty, but she steeled herself and thought that it wasn't her fault. She couldn't blame herself for being afraid. "I wasn't listening alright! I was distracted!"

"By what?" Henry smiled wider, and Ophelia's heart sank further. Her grandfather's complete apathy or obliviousness to her feelings was the most disturbing trait to her. "Did you see something cool? Like a wyvern, or a Risen, or a Risen wyvern? Ooh, show me!"

"By… nothing. Let's just… can we do something else?"

"Like what?"

Ophelia tried to think of something non violent, and she took one of her gems from her robes. "I know! How about gem magic!"

"Never heard of it."

"Oh… uh… how about poses! We could work on combo attacks and poses! Ooh, we could think of names too."

"Poses? You mean like form? How to hold yourself when blasting people apart?"

"N-no. That's not really what I had in mind."

"How about curses? I've wanted to teach you curses since the moment I first saw you! Someday we'll be able to come up with new ones together. I'll finally have a curse buddy!"

"Are curses violent?"

"The ones I like are."

Ophelia didn't hide her frustrations anymore, and she furiously shook her head. "Why is everything you want to do violent?!"

"Well we're at war." Henry said casually. "Messing around with gems and poses and whatnot is great and all, but you'll be killed if you face a dark mage who spent their time focusing on combat. The Grimleal has been pretty good about training mages for battle and, well, the Grimleal isn't exactly on our side.

"I guess that makes sense." Ophelia muttered sadly. Henry actually seemed to notice.

"I thought you'd like resistance training. We're not killing anyone."

"I just don't want to do this anymore okay!"

"Wait, wait!" Henry did recognize that Ophelia was about to quit, but he wasn't sure why. "What if… what if we just practiced defending against curses. Dark mages will be throwing them at you. It won't be like defending against normal spells."

"... how so?"

"Well defending against a curse is all about willpower. If your will is greater than that of your enemy, they won't able to hurt you! It can still be a bit tricky defending against curses though. They startle you and make you want to panic, but you can resist them by learning to get through that. I'll teach you. It's a great skill to learn."

"Well… okay. Just go easy on me."

"Of course."

"So how do I-" Henry had already flung a curse at Ophelia before she could even finish the sentence. Ophelia immediately felt a sharp pain in her stomach and a sudden urge to vomit. She fought it for about ten seconds before giving up.

"Good!" Henry exclaimed as Ophelia finished wiping her mouth.

"What did you just do?!"

"That was a sickness curse. You didn't quite resist it, but you did fight it! You'd be making a dash for that outhouse over there if you hadn't done anything, nya ha!"

"I-how could-I said to go easy on me!"

"Aw come on! That was nothing. Hold on. Here's another minor one. You'll feel a bit of a sting if you don't resist it, but it shouldn't hurt you."

"Shouldn't?!"

"Get ready!" Henry said, ignoring her. "Now remember your will needs to be stronger than mine. Focus on something. Really concentrate." Ophelia found that focus in her hatred of Henry. It was a feeling Ophelia was surprised to have, and she didn't think it was right, but it felt real. Focusing on that gave her clarity and strength, and it allowed her to power through when Henry's curse came. Ophelia felt a crushing, overwhelming force trying to overpower her, and a primal sense of dread spiked inside of her, but she suppressed it. Through sheer will she refused to let it affect her, and the curse quickly faded. She looked up to find Henry genuinely surprised. "Y-you did it! I mean I was using a pretty weak curse, but you did it!"

"I… I did. I did!" Ophelia allowed herself to feel excitement, but she didn't lower her guard. "I really did it."

"Let's see if you can do it again!"

"Wait, just tell me when you're about to-"

Of course Henry just blasted Ophelia without warning again, but she saw it coming. Again Ophelia was enraged at her grandfather's seeming lack of respect for her, and this rage overpowered the curse. This time Ophelia shot Henry a glare, but he was happier than ever. "Alright! You're pretty good!"

"I… I am getting it!" Ophelia understood that Henry truly was helping her, and she thought deeply about her feelings. She didn't want to be angry at Henry. As genuine as the feeling was, she knew it wasn't right of her. Henry had saved her before, and he did want to help her. Ophelia slowly considered that this was Henry's way of showing love. Maybe she couldn't expect the kind of help that Cordelia, Tiki, and Chrom had given her, but that didn't mean Henry didn't care. Ophelia tried hard to remember this, and her instinctive fear and hatred of her grandfather faded. Unfortunately, this also sapped her of the will she'd been drawing from.

"One more time!" Henry exclaimed as he attacked again. Once more Ophelia was distracted by her thoughts, and she couldn't resist it this time. The resulting pain wouldn't have registered as a "sting" in even the most inarticulate of minds. It was a full on cascade of pain. Ophelia's skin felt like it was going to melt off, and her robe started to smolder at parts. She threw herself to the ground and rolled in the sand until the actual heat was extinguished, and it still took several minutes for the pain to dissipate. Henry just watched the entire time, patiently waiting for her to finish. "Uh… heh… that didn't go as well. Hmm… one more time!"

"NO!" Ophelia shrieked as she shot upwards. Her fear had returned even stronger than before, but this time it was accompanied by a sadness. Ophelia thought she could finally trust Henry, but the trauma that followed only served to solidify her first impressions. "ENOUGH!"

"You don't want to practice curses anymore? Alright. Let's go back to spells again!"

"NO! N-no more! I'm done!" Ophelia fought both the urge to cry and lose control of her voice, and it came out screechy and infuriated. "I just wanted you to train me, and I just wanted to spend time with my grandfather! All I get from you is pain, and you don't care! You don't care about how I feel, or if I'm hurt. My grandmother must have been insane to see something in you!"

Henry's smile faded, though he didn't react in any other way. "I… Ophelia…"

"I know you've saved me before, but I don't have to be abused like this!"

"I'm trying to help you!"

Ophelia just shook her head and walked away, leaving Henry confused. "Are you… afraid of me? Your own… family?"

"GO AWAY!" Ophelia shouted behind her. "I should have stayed by Chrom!"

Ophelia couldn't have been aware of Henry's earlier argument with Chrom, but he was reminded of it. "Was… Chrom right? Am I just… hurting her? But I don't want to! Being a grandparent is hard. Hmm."

Ophelia wanted to storm all the way back to the house, but she looked upwards as a raven of all things flew overhead. Ophelia wondered how a bird could survive in this wasteland. The answer eluded her until she noticed it land on Henry's shoulders. "And I didn't think dark mages could get any weirder." Henry played with the raven for a few seconds before walking towards Ophelia, but she threw her arms in front of her and backed away. "Look whatever this is, I don't want any part of it!"

"Wait! Hold on." Henry shook his arm until the bird flew off, then seemingly drained its life force from it in midair. The bird didn't fall dead, but instead dissipated into nothing. The purplish energy flowed through Henry, and he appeared to be invigorated by it.

"W-what did you just do?! How dare you just kill something in front of me!"

"No! I didn't kill anything! Watch." Henry waved his arm, and the ground beneath Ophelia's feet began to shift. Ophelia stepped backwards in a panic, but she wasn't harmed by anything. Rather the sand and dust seemed to morph into soil, and vibrant and colorful flowers popped out. Henry casually plucked one and handed it to his stunned granddaughter with a smile. "See?"

"You… brought the land back to life."

"That's exactly what I did! Very good. I didn't reanimate it, but I did bring it 'back' into a state of life."

"Huh?"

"It's a time reversal curse. When I was a young man I used it to help Cordelia's friend Sumia when she broke some bowls. I just used the curse and presto! The bowls were back to the way they had been. I've gotten pretty good with that curse over the years. Now some three decades later, I can make it like three decades never happened!"

Ophelia looked down to her flower. It appeared to be perfectly normal. "So you made the land like it once was?" She barely managed to state in her stunned silence. "How could you have that much power?!"

"The raven. I didn't kill it. I just absorbed it. I made that raven." Henry pulled out a tome from his robes. "It's a spell I came up with."

"You made that tome?!"

"Sure did. Ever since… uh… your father and grandmother… parted ways with me, I've been increasing my power as a mage. Eventually I became so powerful my body couldn't handle it. All that dark magic was giving me a bad case of indigestion. Worse than what you get from Chon'sin food, nya ha!" Henry activated the tome he pulled out, and the same purple energy from before poured out of him. The raven from earlier materialized from the energy, and it landed on Henry's shoulder again as he kneeled down in pain. "Argh! Forgot how much that hurts."

"What did you do?"

"This is what my tome does. To keep my body from falling apart, I sealed some of my magical power away. This raven is a manifestation of it." Henry playfully scratched the raven, which reacted as if it were an entirely real bird. "I can always absorb my power back from it, but I usually leave it sealed away in its form. I'd be far stronger with all my power, but I wouldn't live as long. Slow and steady over one pump, heh."

"You created life from dark magic?!" Ophelia was still angry, but her childlike wonder from when she first met Henry also returned. "That's not possible! There's no way!"

"It's not?"

"You can't create life from thin air!"

"People have children."

"That's different."

"Is it? This reminds me of a conversation I had with Miriel. People always try to find complex answers for things. They miss the simple answers in front of them. Most people would never believe that any mage could create life from thin air, but anyone can have children. Think of magic like that. You'd think things impossible if you think of magic as some strange force that exists outside of nature, but it's a perfectly natural thing. When you understand that, magic will make more sense to you." Henry nudged the raven forward, and it landed on Ophelia's shoulder. She immediately tensed up, but the raven just sat patiently. Slowly Ophelia petted it, and a smile appeared as the raven appeared to enjoy it.

"Aww. It's… a perfectly normal bird."

"Huginn. That's his name. Huginn is what I named the tome, and the bird is named after it. The tome can be used to create it, though I can reabsorb it whenever I want."

"Does that hurt the raven?"

"Not at all! See." To prove his point, Henry absorbed and reformed the bird several times. He was on his knees and out of breath by the time he was done, but he was still smiling. "See!"

"That's… amazing. That's amazing!"

"There's something I wanted to give you." Henry handed Ophelia another tome.

"Huh?" Ophelia studied it carefully. "It looks like the other one."

"That's because I created two. That tome is Muninn, and it also creates a raven. If you create that raven, I'll be much weaker. I usually keep one absorbed, but I created two tomes just in case." Henry stepped closer to his granddaughter. "You don't have to be afraid of me anymore, because now you have some control over me. You can make me stop if things ever get too scary."

"You would trust me with this?"

"If it's what it takes for you to trust me. I just want to be part of your life. I just want to protect you. I just want to help you realize your potential."

Ophelia stared back at her grandfather with a determined look. "I want to use it now."

"Oh. Um, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"If… if that's what it takes." Ophelia had wanted to see if he'd really allow her to use the tome. His answer relieved her, but she also wanted to see if it actually worked. She activated the tome, and again purplish energy flowed out of Henry. A raven materialized in the air and took off as Henry fell to his knees. Muninn was identical to Huginn except that it perched on Ophelia's shoulder. "Gah! That stings, and it's not the good kind of pain!"

"Now we're even." Henry cautiously looked up, but Ophelia hadn't said that in malice. She was giggling and gave him back a genuine smile for the first time in awhile.

"Oh, is that how it's going to be? Be careful. A couple of the Shepherds could tell you all about how bad my curses can get, and I've had thirty years to come up with new ones, nya ha ha!"

"Wait! You're not really going to-"

"It's a joke! See, we're having fun again!"

* * *

Isaiah had just finished the chores Matilda left for him, and he now relaxed into a wooden chair on his porch. The land provided an ugly, barren sight, but it was his land, and that fact comforted him. The world may have been dying, but he had still managed to build a life from it. It was then that Sarah wandered out onto the porch, one of her Arch Surg action figures in her hand. "Hey, sweetie. Come to keep daddy company?"

"No." Sarah responded bluntly.

"Aw. Well do ya need something?"

Sarah stomped her foot angrily. "Paul kicked me out of our room! He's being mean!"

Isaiah looked down to the toy in his daughter's hand. "Were you throwing your toys at him again?"

"Nooo." Sarah said, her voice trailing off.

"Don't lie to me, darling."

"Well… okay I was. He's the Fell Dragon Grima, and my Arch Surg guys are trying to kill him! It's just a game."

"Sounds like Paul doesn't want to be part of it. You need to respect other people's feelings."

"But he still can't yell at me and kick me out!"

"That's true. I'll have a talk with him later. Why don't you stay outside with daddy for now?" Sarah smiled and climbed onto her father's lap. Isaiah looked back to his land and smiled, but Sarah quickly became bored.

"Don't cha get tired of looking at this same land all the time, Daddy?"

"No. It's mine, and it's nice to know I own something in this world. I'll never get tired of it, even if it is a little dull. You'll feel the same way when you have your own land someday."

Sarah's face scrunched up. "No! I don't want to be a farmer! I want to be a soldier. A Army Ranger… or a sailor… or maybe even an Inquisitor. Then I could see the whole world. I could see new things every day!"

"An Army Ranger. You want to be an Army Ranger." Isaiah was visibly saddened by his daughter's words, but she was completely oblivious to it. "I'm sure you'll feel differently when you're older."

Isaiah and Sarah both looked up to see Chrom walking towards the porch, Soleil a small figure in the distance. "Look, Daddy! It's that feller from the Shepherds." Sarah looked at her father innocently. "You said you'd tell me about my half sister one day. Who died before I was born? What was her name?"

"Kjelle." Isaiah replied softly.

"Will you tell me about her? I bet she'd be nicer than mean old Paul."

"No."

"But when?!"

"Just… not now." Isaiah was relieved when Chrom walked up and sat down in a nearby chair, as it allowed him to avoid Sarah's questions. "Hey there, Chrom? What have you been up to?"

"Not much. I'm sorry, was there something I was supposed to do?"

"No. I was just wondering was all."

Sarah continued to try and get Isaiah's attention, but he ignored her. She first tried to tap on his face, but then became amused by her own actions. She climbed further up her father and entertained herself by mushing the skin on his face around. "Your face is squishy, Daddy! Squishy, squishy squish!" Isaiah didn't react even as his daughter forcibly changed his expressions. He just continued looking at Chrom, who couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of the sight.

"Heh, is this a bad time?"

"No. Not at all." Isaiah gently took Sarah and set her down. "Why don't you find something to do inside okay, sweetie? I'll talk to Paul later."

"Okay!"

Sarah scurried off, and Chrom was strangely fixated on her. Isaiah noticed and cleared his throat. "Everything okay?"

Chrom took a deep breath. "I was helping Soleil with her sword practice."

"Alright."

"She… she called me dad."

Isaiah realized Chrom was actually rather distressed. "I'm assuming that's not a normal thing?"

"She said it like it was a joke. I was lecturing her about how she could take care of herself."

"So it's just a joke."

"A lot of true things are said in jest." Chrom gave his old ally a sad but understanding look, and Isaiah understood what it meant. Chrom had truly come to trust him, and he wanted someone close to talk to. "When she said that to me… I saw… for a moment… someone else."

"Another young woman with a sword that looked up to you?"

Chrom slowly nodded his head. "But I'm not her father. I'm guiding her. Leading her… or am I even doing that? I guess… I don't know what kind of relationship I have with her, and not just Soleil either. Caeldori and Ophelia too. When I stopped pushing them away, I thought I had become their teacher. But… am I becoming something else to them?"

"You mean…" Isaiah hesitated. He didn't want to offend Chrom if he got it wrong, but he didn't want to avoid the conversation when his friend seemed to really need to talk to someone about it. "The Pa they didn't have?"

"Yes."

"That's kind of a strange thing to think. How do you know them? Maybe it was just a joke."

"I don't know them… but I know what that's like. My mother and father died when I was very young, and I searched for parental figures everywhere. In my nannies. In the servants. Even in Emmeryn, and she was really still just a child herself. It wasn't a good way to grow up."

"But they're not growing up, Chrom. Those girls have to be almost thirty years old by now. They're grown women! We shouldn't even be calling them girls! Sure they're young compared to us, but there are Grimleal soldiers out there only half their age!"

"I know. I'm just saying."

Isaiah studied Chrom. "Maybe they do view you as a kind of father figure… but are you sure this doesn't go both ways? Are you sure you have a completely professional relationship with them?"

"No." Chrom answered, realizing the truth in his words as he said them. "That's why I'm worried. I'm not sure it's appropriate for a man my age to be close with them like this."

"But there were age differences in the Shepherds."

"I know. It's strange. I never thought anything of leading people years older than me into battle back then, but it doesn't feel right to be so close to these young women now. These feelings don't feel… appropriate."

"So there are feelings?"

"I… I don't know."

"I think you do." Isaiah leaned forward. "You shouldn't try to replace Lucina with these three, Chrom. She's gone."

"I… yeah."

"But that doesn't mean your feelings are wrong. You say they're not appropriate… but maybe this belief that they should just be your soldiers is what's inappropriate. If they look up to you, and you care about them, then what's the problem? The Shepherds were built on bonds. We met our wives there for goodness' sake! What's wrong with caring about them."

"T-they're not my family! Well Ophelia is but… you know what I'm saying right?"

"No. I don't. Are you sure you're still not pushing them away?"

"I need to maintain a professional relationship with them. We're at war."

"Well maybe you… shouldn't be."

"What?!"

"You've grown so close to these women. Why… why fight at all? Have you thought about just being the family they didn't have? Can't your love for them just be enough? Why do they have to kill people with you?"

"We have to stop the Grimleal!"

"Chrom, look around. They've won. Almost everything that happened in Lucina's time happened here. The only difference is we're still around, and you want to ruin that?"

"How could I give up, Donnel?!" Chrom almost yelled in exasperation. Isaiah only returned a glare. "Lucina gave her life to stop this! I'd be dishonoring her if I gave up!"

"So you'll lead these women to their possible deaths in the name of another dead woman?"

"How dare you!"

"Look we like to think that there's something good to hold onto in the world. We do it for a simple reason. It keeps us hanging in there. But… look at your life. Look at Lucina's life. Ever since you were young people told you that you'd do great things. They fawned over you. You had the world at your fingers. Now you're just an old man, and you have no one. No one but those three… and you'd risk losing it for a stupid dream! Lucina gave her life to fighting it, but what did it get her? She never knew anything else. Never knew love. Never knew a family of her own. Never knew peace. Never knew a fulfilling career. She gave up her humanity to fight against the Grimleal, and what did it get her? Nothing but an unsung death. She didn't even get a funeral."

Chrom had rarely snapped at any of the former Shepherds he'd reencountered, but his patience with Isaiah almost instantly evaporated. "You watch your mouth."

"No you listen!" Isaiah shot up, leaving Chrom more confused by the sudden anger than anything. "While you're living in my house, eating my food, sitting in my damn chair, you'll listen to what I have to say! Lucina got nothing for her life of war! Kjelle got nothing! They all got nothing! Do you think they'd really want us to throw away our lives? Do you think Lucina would have wanted you to know nothing but war?! So what if you keep fighting them?! So what if you kill a hundred of them? A thousand. Ten thousand. They have hundreds of thousands of soldiers. They make more money in a second than most people do in a lifetime. You can't beat them! They own everything! The land! The cities! The economy! I mean my own daughter wants to be a soldier. She wants to be one of them! They own our hearts and minds! Your problem is you think it's like a chess game where everything is even and you can win by making the right moves, but it's not! Not only do they have more pieces than you, but they own the whole GODS _DAMNED_ _**BOARD**_! Everytime you try to make a move you look down and see that Mark of Grima on each square, staring into your very soul! Every move the enemy puts you in check! Sure you can move your king, but you're just stalling. You can't win. The only way to win the game… is not to play. The war can't be won. Our days of destiny and heroism are gone! Welcome to the brave new world! Welcome to the regime! The game was rigged from the start! This is the way the world dies!"

"Donnel… you've changed."

"I've grown up."

Chrom shook his head, unable to believe what he was saying. "What would you have me do?"

"Lay down that stupid sword and move on. You'll be a lot happier."

"This 'stupid sword' was given to my ancestors by Naga because they were willing to stand against evil, no matter how bad things were!"

"Naga has abandoned us." Isaiah replied coldly. "These three women are a second chance, Chrom, but not to defeat Grima. They're a second chance to be _loved_ by someone, and you want to treat them as just soldiers. That's sickening! It wasn't wrong of you to make the Shepherds, but fighting against Grima isn't what made the Shepherds good. The friendships and bonds between us is what made us good. A life of war hasn't given you anything, Chrom. War took away your sisters, your wife, your children, your country! All your friends and family don't walk beside you now. There's no honor in being a soldier. There's no honor in a life of war. There's honor in being a father. In being a son. In loving and being loved. If you keep living like this, you'll die alone. You're not dishonoring anyone by surviving. By focusing on your family. These girls can be that family… but if you keep devoting your life to war then you may never find a home again."

"So you want me to admit that the Shepherds died for nothing?! That we can't continue their fight?!"

"That's exactly what I want you to admit! We died for nothing, but we lived for each other! For the relationships and friendships we made! It's arrogance to think that man can have dominion over the world. Over gods! Grima's rise was inevitable, and the First Exalt and Lucina were just stalling. But we can have our family members. Don't devote your life to violence. Devote your life to them. Lucina's story wasn't an inspiration. It was a warning."

"You… want me to give up?!"

Isaiah stood up and placed his hand on Chrom's shoulder. "I don't regret going with you thirty two years ago. You helped me, now I'll help you. You showed me a life behind what I had, now I'll show you how to be happy again. I was once a peasant, and you were once a lord. Now I have more than you. Why? Because I remembered what really matters. There's only one way to get past your pain, Chrom. You have to move on. Don't push these girls away. They love you, and you love them, so let them in! Don't just treat them like soldiers. Don't march back into war. The only way to win is not to play." Isaiah walked away, leaving Chrom with no chance to respond.

"You… you can't mean that, Donnel." Chrom was still disturbed by what his companion had said, but he also slowly considered what he wanted Chrom to understand. There was some truth to it. Isaiah did have more than him now. "It can't be that simple. It just can't… can it? Could I be there for them… without fighting?"

* * *

"Stupid Sarah." Paul grumbled as he exited the house. "She throws her toys at me, and I'm the one who gets in trouble. Pa yells and makes me clean the stables. She's such a damned baby!" It was now sunset, and Paul sighed as he turned towards the stables, glancing over at the sunset as he did. "And Pa's friends parked their dragon and their winged horse there. I'd better ask that they keep them restrained while I clean."

Soleil smiled at Ophelia as she joined her friend in sitting on the porch. "Hey there!" Soleil said in a cheery tone as Ophelia sat. Her smile faded somewhat as she saw how tired Ophelia was. "So what have you been up to? You look exhausted!"

"Training with Henry." Ophelia grumbled. "I am exhausted."

Soleil became very worried. "You're okay right?!"

"Of course!"

"Your robes look like they've been burned!"

"I'm fine, Soleil. Really."

"You don't have to spend time with him just because you're related."

"Please, Soleil. Just leave it alone."

Soleil stared at Ophelia, but her friend didn't move or return a smile. "Aww… I think someone's grumpy."

"I just don't want to talk about it."

"Well I know how to put a smile on your face."

"There's nothing you can say that would do that."

Soleil gave a sly grin as she slowly moved closer to Ophelia. "It's not anything I would _say_."

"I don't get what you're-" Ophelia exploded into laughter as Soleil jabbed her fingers into her abdomen. Ophelia tried to wiggle free, but this only encouraged Soleil. "BWA! ST-HAH-HAAAP!"

Soleil only giggled back and tried to get a better grip on her friend. "See! We're both smiling now! Get rid of that frown!"

"T-this isn't FU-HA-HAANY! ST-STOP! SOLEIL! I-I'M WA-HA-HARNING YOU!" Soleil was relentless and only responded with more playful taunts, so Ophelia desperately reached out for a small rock and tried to telekinetically grip it. The rock spastically flew around in the air until it zipped into Soleil's face. She fell over clutching her nose and groaning, while Ophelia fell clutching her sides and giggling.

"OW!"

"I, heh heh, I told you to stop!"

"I tickle you and you hit me in the face with a rock!"

"I couldn't b-breathe!"

Both women felt as if they were being watched, and they turned to see Paul staring at them. He was blushing, but otherwise stood like a startled deer. "Uh… I wasn't watching."

"Oh hey." Soleil responded. "You're Paul right?"

"Y-yeah."

"Need something?"

"Yeah. I was looking for you two. I need you to move your dragon so I don't get eaten while I clean the stables!"

"Minerva? Aw, she's a sweetie. She wouldn't do that."

"Maybe she won't eat you, but I don't want to take any chances."

"You're worrying too much. I'll show you." Soleil and Ophelia lead Paul to the stables. Soleil knocked on the door. "Minerva! We're coming in, girl!" Soleil expected the wyvern to grunt in acknowledgment, but nothing came. "Huh. I hope she's okay." Soleil opened the door and called out for Minerva, but still she couldn't hear anything. She turned to Paul and shrugged. "I guess she's asleep."

"Oh yeah? Then why are her glowing red eyes staring right at us?"

"Minerva doesn't have glowing red eyes."

The screaming that erupted from the stables pierced the quiet evening of the homestead, and Isaiah, Gaius, and Chrom instantly perked their heads up. They bolted outside to find a figure threatening Soleil, Ophelia, and Paul. Ophelia and Soleil drew their weapons, but they were too tired from training to fight effectively. Paul tried fending the figure off with a shovel, but he was more of a liability than anything. The sight of the three in danger shook the men to their souls, and Chrom and Isaiah turned to Gaius in a panic as he loaded his arquebus. "Shoot it!" Isaiah cried out while shaking him.

"I'm working on it!"

"Man! I don't have a weapon or anything! I feel as helpless and frustrated as a one legged cat trying to bury turds on a frozen pond, I tell you what!"

"Damn it, Tinhead! I'm trying to focus but you're making me want to smile!"

"Hurry up!" Chrom roared. His own hand was on the Falchion, but he didn't think he could run all the way over to the stables in time.

"Don't rush me! Handling a firearm is like handling a woman. You don't skip to the end. You take your time."

"GAIUS!" Isaiah shouted.

Gaius finished loading the arquebus, pulled back the hammer, took aim, and fired. An instant later a bullet tore through the figure's head, liberating the interior of its skull from its meaty prison. "Ha! Got 'em!"

"Alright!" Isaiah yelled as he thrusted his arm in the air. "Get 'r done!" The three men's excitement evaporated as the figure's corpse dissipated. Ophelia, Soleil, and Paul were confused, but the three former Shepherds were in shocked silence. "Did you see how the body faded away?!" Isaiah exclaimed.

"It was a Risen!" Gaius responded. "That wasn't a Tunneler or anything! That was a Risen! That was an OG, original Grimleal, Risen! Where could it possibly have come from?!"

Chrom thought where he had last heard about Risen. "Algol."

* * *

Algol shrieked in pain, and Pheros, Farber, and Cervantes approached him cautiously. "You okay?" Cervantes wondered as Algol rubbed his head.

"I just got a sharp pain in the back of my head."

"So?" Pheros said callously.

"I'm not complaining about a migraine! I get that pain when one of my summoned Risen dies! I think one of my scouting Risen found something."

Farber's eyes widened. "Chrom?"

Algol gave a devious smile and shouldered his axe. "Huntin' time, boys and girl."


	35. The Villain's Journey

Chrom found himself in an empty room. Everything in the room from the floor to the walls consisted of nothing more than a black void, but it didn't feel that strange to Chrom. He wasn't even sure why he thought of it as a room. It was almost like he was floating on nothing, but he didn't question it. He just turned to see the one object in the room and focused on that, knowing somehow that it was the only thing that mattered. It was a table with two chairs, and on the table was a game of chess, waiting to be played. Seated across from the table was a young man. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, and he gave a grin that briefly seemed friendly, but was more cocky than anything when Chrom looked at him more closely. He was sure he'd seen this man before, but he couldn't place it. "Well if it isn't the old man? How's it going?"

The man's voice reminded Chrom of the events that had sent the past several weeks into motion. "Conrad?! Y-you're the kid from the bar!"

"I have to take a break from the ladies every once in awhile."

"You're dead!"

Conrad shrugged. "Don't think too hard about it. Come on. Want to have a quick game?"

Chrom sat down in the other chair and looked at the chess board. "Alright. Why not?"

"Alright. I'll be black. Now white goes first."

Chrom knew how to play, but he was never that interested in chess. He shrugged and took one of his pawns, basically at random, and moved it two spaces forward. Conrad smiled and watched. "Aw. Always send the pawns first, right?"

"I guess."

"The people take two steps forward, away from the sovereign. They think they're moving towards freedom, but they actually play right into his or her hands."

Chrom slowly looked up. Conrad's normally smooth tone was gone. He'd been very serious when he said that. "W-what?"

Despite what he had said, Conrad didn't move his pawn first. Instead he took his knight and moved it from B8 to C6. Chrom took the pawn to the right of the one he'd moved and sent it forward. Conrad moved his own pawn forward. "Brother beside brother. The common men, the workers, the farmers, the soldiers, the hedge born, they come to be unified. They no longer believe in the divine right of kings. They come to believe that they can rule society. They ask for a share of the capital. They ask for a share of the means of production. They ask for things that have always been controlled by a landed elite. They believe they are taking power from the upper classes, but they play right into our hands. We will create a society controlled not by armies or kings or religion, but by capital. Those who control the capital will control the human soul. A world based on money and trade, not fealty. Feudalism is dead. The new world is built not on social class, but on capital." Chrom moved his pawn from F4 to E5, taking Conrad's pawn. Conrad just smiled and took his piece off the board. "A small sacrifice for the greater good."

Chrom looked down at the chessboard for an instant, but looked back up to see that Conrad was gone. In his place was Courtney. Chrom immediately tensed up with rage but, for some reason he couldn't understand, he didn't want to stop playing. Courtney attached a kind of hook to his prosthetic arm and moved his queen to H4 in a rather ungracious manner. "Heh, always liked chess. Something about being able to control all these pieces. You can make them die for you, all for the greater good." Courtney glared back at Chrom. "Of course, you'd never sacrifice any of your soldiers. Would you?"

Chrom looked down to the board to find a sight that almost made him jump from his chair. The pieces were gone. In their place were people. Small figures that stood in place, fiddling with their equipment or pacing back and forth. Courtney's pieces had become Grimleal soldiers, but Chrom's pieces had become the Shepherds themselves. Each one was unique. Cordelia and Sumia had formed from pawns, and they casually maintained a conversation. Stahl formed from a knight, and he seemed to be napping. Lissa formed from a bishop, and she seemed bored. The pawn Chrom had moved close to Courtney's side of the board had become Donnel, and he seemed worried by the knight, which turned into a mounted Grimleal soldier, that he was in the path of. Each and every chess piece was a Shepherd, and they all turned to look at Chrom whenever his hand was near them. Courtney noticed the look of shock on Chrom's face and gave a sadistic cackle. "W-what the hell is this?!"

"Make a move, boy!"

Chrom looked down. He saw a number of moves he could make, but part of him hesitated. He didn't want to do anything that would get one of his pieces removed, but it was impossible to win that way. Everytime he hovered his hand over a Shepherd, they would shake their heads and freak out. None of them wanted to be moved, and Chrom couldn't bear to look at their expressions of terror and dread, but he steeled himself and reluctantly moved Sumia one space forward to G3. Sumia drew her weapon and looked around in a panic, and Cordelia seemed to call out to her. Chrom finally had to turn away.

"Heh." Courtney didn't "attack" any of the Shepherds, but instead moved his queen, represented by some kind of artillery piece, to E4. "The Grimleal has an endless amount of soldiers. If we lost a thousand lives to kill one rebel, we'd still come out on top of all these rebellions. We'll never run out of soldiers. You won't make the hard choices." Chrom looked back down. He noticed that his queen was none other than his younger self. Chrom didn't feel guilty about moving him, so he took himself and moved him to E2. Courtney responded by moving his queen all the way to H1, putting it well within Chrom's side of the board and taking his rook. The rook was represented by Lon'qu, and Chrom watched in agony as Courtney's artillery fired on him. A cannonball seemed to tear right through his arm, leaving him to slowly die of shock and blood loss. Courtney's cannon then wheeled its way to the square. Worst of all, the other pieces seemed to watch. Courtney's Grimleal soldiers cheered, while the Shepherds cried out in horror. "And yet, for all of our willingness to sacrifice our soldiers, they live better under us then they did under the old world regimes. Our society gives people the chance to move up in life. I was just a peasant in Ylisse. Now I rule over the land rednecks like me used to work. Aversa and Gangrel were just commoners. Now they rule over humanity. There's no place for blue bloods in our new world. We're a society of workers! Farmers! Soldiers! Proletariats! You're nothing anymore, boy! Now everyone that stands with you will die alongside the rest of your feudal regime!"

Chrom had to close his eyes and take deep breaths to not snap at Courtney. When he opened his eyes again, Courtney was gone. High Inquisitor Aversa was sitting across from him. "You!"

"My, if it isn't Prince Chrom. How long has it been? You remember me don't you, darling? I'd forgive you if you didn't. Last you saw me I was a defeated woman, begging the strong, handsome, righteous young prince to spare little old me. Now?" Aversa giggled. "Well now you'd be doing the begging if we ever encountered each other again. I always did look forward to the day you'd be on your knees." Chrom didn't give her anything to work with. He just looked at the board and planned his next move. The pieces were normal pieces again, and Chrom could plan his actions without worrying about anyone dying. He took his knight and moved it to F3, hoping he could take the queen when it moved. Aversa smiled and held her finger over her queen, gently caressing it while looking into Chrom's eyes. "They say this is a man's world, but it isn't really. The most sought after commodity in history isn't gold or silver or anything like that. It's women. Men fall over themselves trying to win over beautiful women. Sure the patriarchs have built a society where they hold the wealth, the power, the weapons, but they're not in control of their own minds. They're always thinking about their next conquest, but are they really the ones doing the conquering?" Aversa didn't move her queen. Instead she took her bishop and moved it to E7. "Some men spend their lives chasing wealth. They don't rule wealth, wealth rules them. Now imagine a commodity even more sought than that, and imagine that this commodity has a mind of its own. Now if a woman isn't careful, she'll find herself little more than a thing. To be seen and not heard. But if a woman knows what she's doing…" Chrom moved his other knight to C3, and Aversa again put her finger on her queen. "She can wrap men around her finger. They'll do anything for us. We twist their very thoughts. They spend their lives desiring us. Chasing after us. Protecting us. Caring for us. Us their girls, their babies, their _property_. But all the while we're in their ear. Shaping them. Them who think themselves better than us. More intelligent. More powerful. More deserving. Look at history. Behind every good man is a good woman. Marth and Caeda. Alm and Celica. The First Exalt and the Pegasus Knight by his side. You and the Queen of Ylisse. Now look at the men without women in their lives, or at least without women that truly supported them. Gharnef. Hardin. Validar. Walhart. Gangrel. They all fell to the chivalrous heroes." Aversa smirked. "And the women by their side." Aversa took her finger off the queen and instead moved her pawn to D6. Chrom reached out to make his own move, but he tensed up as a hand rested on his shoulder. Chrom quickly turned to find his wife smiling down on him.

"Go ahead, Chrom." Maribelle said with a soft voice. "Make your move."

"W-what? How?!"

"Make your move, darling."

Chrom had many things he desperately wanted to ask, but he was startled at another hand on his other shoulder before he could. This time it was Sumia. Chrom had always considered her a friend, but they weren't close enough to be touching like this, and yet Maribelle didn't react. Both women just smiled down. "Yeah, come on. Make your move."

"I-I don't-"

Olivia also walked behind Chrom and slowly put her face by his left ear, her whispering sending a shiver down his body. "Yes. Don't think. Just move."

"Mmm." Sully added as she took the same position by his right ear. "It's not like you to wait. Make your move."

Part of Chrom was disturbed by how close they all were, but part of him almost enjoyed it. Wanted it. His four allies all ran their hands along him in a slow and suggestive manner while giggling. That first part of Chrom tried to tell them to stop, but he couldn't quite form the words. He just shivered and almost moaned before he caught himself. It'd be pleasurable if Aversa wasn't shooting him a devious smile from across the table. "Women can own a man's very mind." Chrom glanced back to the board, but images began to flash through his mind as soon as he thought about his next move. They were of women, including the four by him now, all scantily clad and in provocative poses. The images raced through his mind so quickly that it was impossible to see any one of them clearly, but he could tell what he was seeing from the similarities in the dozens and dozens of racy thoughts that involuntarily tunneled their way through his mind. It was more traumatizing than erotic, as the images refused to cease. Dozens became hundreds. They became more intense everytime he tried to think about his actual move, and were also accompanied by soft giggling and whispering. Chrom's eyes flickered around the board, but nothing made the images go away. Aversa's smile widened, as if she knew what was happening to him. "And when we have that kind of power, what do men hold really but their own egos?"

Maribelle, Sully, Sumia, and Olivia leaned closer to Chrom. Their every word made the images worse. "Aren't you excited?" Olivia asked. "Make your move. I want to see what you do."

"Go on, darling." Maribelle whispered. "Go on. Move."

"Make a move. *Giggles.* Don't you want to?" Sumia added.

"Come on." Sully playfully teased. "Come on. Come on, Chrom. Make a goddamn move!"

Chrom didn't think or plan ahead. He just wanted it all to stop. He reached for the nearest piece, his king, and moved it to F2. The images finally went away, leaving him with just Aversa's smiling face. She took her knight and moved it to E5, taking Chrom's pawn. "Bad move, sweetie."

Chrom turned to the four women in annoyance, but they were no longer there. He looked back to see that Aversa too was gone. In her place was Gangrel. The rage Chrom felt at the sight of Courtney and Aversa was nothing compared to what surged through him now. "Once again the two of us face each other. Our lives really are intertwined aren't they? We're two birds of a feather. Two peas in a pod. Two threads in the same stitch. Two sides of the same coin. Two insects under the same boot. Two corpses in one grave. We are similar, but we never face. Always on opposite sides. It's like we're in a game. Our fighting is part of our stories." Gangrel laughed as he looked over the board. "The question is, how much blood will we spill before our battle finally ends? A war between Ylisse and Plegia. Emmeryn's brains rendered nothing more than a splat on the ground. My Plegian generals killed or wounded. An entire group of pirates wiped out. All the Shepherds but for a few killed. How many more people will die or have their lives destroyed for our battle?" Chrom went into a fit of rage, but again he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop playing. Instead he became more short sighted in his moves, and he focused mainly on just taking pieces from Gangrel. In turn, Gangrel abandoned the strategy his predecessors had set up and just chased Chrom's king with reckless moves. Gangrel slowly forced Chrom's king towards the left of the board with his queen. Chrom sacrificed several pieces to keep his king from being taken until he was able to take Gangrel's queen with a bishop. From there Gangrel focused on bringing his pieces up. The two armies gradually moved towards each other. When they came to blows, both men became taken over entirely by their fury. Chrom couldn't even remember his own moves. It all blurred together. He just concentrated on taking as much from Gangrel as he could, and he didn't think twice about losing his own pieces. All that mattered was hurting Gangrel. Within a few dozen moves, almost every piece on the board was gone. The sight filled Chrom with an inexplicable sense of dread, as if more than just chess pieces had been lost. Gangrel gave an unhinged smile, as if reveling in the "death". "That's how you know we're hero and villain, Chrom. I don't know which of us is which, but that's how I know this is the relationship we have. People die whenever we face each other, and yet we never do. We're survivors. Other people are just footnotes, but we're great men. Our fight is all that matters. We are all that matters, and everyone else is just part of our story. We need each other."

Chrom tried to look back to the board to plan his next move with what few pieces remained. He couldn't quite remember what pieces were left, but he could have sworn he still had a bishop and a knight. When he looked back however, he instead found a rook and several pawns on his side of the board. He looked again, and once more the pieces were different. More than that, the Grimleal had more pieces than they did before. Chrom looked again, and realized that the Grimleal now had twice as many pieces as he did. It was as if they'd been resurrected. "Y-you're cheating!"

Chrom glanced up to see that Gangrel was gone. Validar himself was seated across the table, and he gave a menacing smile. Chrom looked down to find that all of the Grimleal's pieces had come back, and yet he was only left with a few. The exact pieces he had seemed to change each time he looked, and he wondered if it really mattered. He couldn't win anymore with such a disadvantage. "Don't you see the futility of it all? This was never a world of man. We were always living in the shadows of gods. The Fell Dragon's ascension was inevitable. No human force could stop it. Not the law. Not the courts. Not the armies. Not the oligarchs. Not the heroes. This was never man's world." Chrom looked down to the board to see an impossible sight. Every single piece on the board, both white and black, had become a black king, with the sole exception of his white king. There was no way Chrom could win. Even if he took a king from the Grimleal, they wouldn't lose. He could take two thirds of all the pieces, but he'd still lose if he lost his one king. He could maybe win small victories, but the Grimleal wouldn't lose the game. Chrom tried to move his king regardless, but the Mark of Grima suddenly appeared on every square on the board. Whenever he moved the piece closer to a square, the symbol would glow, and he felt an overwhelming sense of dread as if he knew each move would somehow doom him. "Every single move has been planned. Engineered. It's the regime's game. The Fell Dragon's resurrection could not be stopped. There is no way out. The future cannot be changed. Your move."

Isaiah's words went through Chrom's mind. "The only way to win… is not to play." Chrom thought for several seconds, sighed, and took his king off the board. Validar began to give a horrifying laugh. Gangrel materialized next to him, and he also laughed at Chrom. Aversa, Courtney, and Conrad soon followed, all cackling at Chrom. A red light began to bathe the area, and Chrom looked up to see six blood red eyes looming over him. He couldn't see what they were attached to, but he knew what it meant. He just stood up, turned, and walked away. The laughter followed him as he did. It tormented him to his very soul, and nothing he did could make it stop. Chrom tried to cover his ears and stumble away, but it wouldn't end.

"Chrom?" The noise instantly calmed Chrom, and he looked up to find Ophelia smiling at him. Chrom looked back, but the table and the Grimleal were gone. He turned back to his grandniece to find Soleil and Caeldori standing next to her. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. I'm fine." Chrom slowly smiled, and he felt at ease for the first time. "Thanks to you three."

* * *

"Gah!" Chrom shot awake. He'd been slouched over in his chair, and only then realized he'd even fallen asleep. He was greeted by a sharp pain in his back. "Ah! Damn wooden chair."

"You fall asleep on us, old man?" Chrom looked over to Soleil, who had found it humorous. "Come on now. You're about the same age as Cordelia right? She could still keep up with us. You're too young for mid afternoon naps."

"Yeah, well-" Chrom rubbed his back. "Time and I don't exactly have an amicable relationship."

"You look rough. Is there a certain age where power naps stop working?"

"I… had a strange dream."

"So… you're too tired to train some more?"

Chrom was far too tired to move like that right now, but he was pleasantly surprised. He was worried Soleil wouldn't want to again after what happened the previous day. "I'm sorry, Soleil. Maybe in an hour or two."

"Alright. If we're still here by then."

"I'm honestly surprised to see you so eager."

"Well Caeldori was getting on me about not training enough. Same as old grandma. Heh, was Cordelia kind of a hard woman when she was younger? Or was she more like me? You know, I bet she was. Old people are always getting on young people when they see a lot of their younger selves in them."

"I'm sorry, Soleil. I honestly didn't know her that well thirty years ago."

"Oh. Huh. I guess I thought you knew everyone. She talked a lot about you."

Chrom was saddened, again feeling guilty for how much he took her for granted. "Yeah."

Soleil could tell she'd upset him, and she smiled wider. "Well she could be real strict with us. The two of us were always going at it. It was annoying at the time, but it's kind of funny looking back at it."

Chrom heard giggling to his right, and he only then noticed Ophelia at the other end of the table. "You two were always arguing, but she'd be happy to see you training now."

"Nah. She'd still be on my butt." Soleil did a nasally and exaggerated version of Cordelia's voice. "Now Soleil, I'm glad to see you training more, but training just one day isn't enough. I'm going to need you to practice for about twelve hours a day every weekday, m'kay? Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I'm going to need you to train on Saturdays and Sundays too, mm'kay?"

Ophelia smiled. "She did not sound like that!"

"Now Soleil, I heard you've been harassing the village girls again. If you want I can get you a date with just me and my belt buckle, mmm'kay? If Ophelia and Caeldori ask about your bruises, we'll tell them you walked into a tree, mmmm'kay?"

"S-stop!" Ophelia responded, though she was clearly amused. Soleil did a routine where she was herself before pretending to be Cordelia again.

"Now Cordelia, it takes more energy to frown than it does to smile!" "Yeah Soleil, well, it takes more energy to deal with your Pegasus dung than it does to just slap the crap out of you, mmmmm'kay?"

Ophelia snickered. "She wasn't that bad!"

Chrom took it more seriously. "She threatened you?!"

"What? N-no! It was just an exaggeration! I was joking." Soleil sat back in her seat. "It feels good to laugh about it, you know? Helps… helps us move on. Speaking of moving on, do we have time to eat first?"

"I don't think so. Caeldori will be back any minute now, and we've eaten enough of Isaiah's food."

Soleil shrugged. "I was getting sick of the food here anyways. You know what I haven't had in a long time?"

"Hmm?"

Soleil's eyes seemed to stare off into the distance. "Steak. Oh gods. Come to think of it, I haven't seen a cow in years. I hope they're not extinct."

"I'm sure they're still around in the Grimleal controlled lands. Their officers can have steak every night if they want, while the rest of us scrape by."

Soleil was only half listening. She still seemed to be fantasizing about her hopeless craving. "So what would you have if you could eat any food right now?"

Ophelia thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe some noodles."

"That's boring. How about you, Chrom?"

"Hmm. I could go for a meat pie."

Gaius poked his head through the hallway, as if he'd just materialized from thin air. "Did someone say pie?!"

"Uh, yeah. I was talking about a meat pie."

Gaius groaned. "Oh. I thought maybe you had a fruit pie?"

"The hell would we get a pie from around here?" Soleil shot. "You see any bakeries around here? All I see is sand!"

"It's just that I've gone so many days without sugar! ARGH!" Gaius slumped over to a chair, sat down, and allowed himself to fall into the table. He then moaned for several seconds without moving. "I need sugar!"

"What are you, four years old?"

"I have a medical condition!"

Soleil shook her head. "It's like they put a child in a middle aged man's body."

Isaiah entered the room and crossed his arms. Soleil and Ophelia looked away from his stern glare, but Chrom just nodded and readied himself for what he'd say. "Caeldori's back. It's time for you to go."

Soleil slowly met his gaze again. "Um, Isaiah… s-sir? Is there no way we can talk about this?"

"No. You need to leave."

"But we have nowhere else to go!"

Isaiah's expression softened somewhat, showing that he wasn't completely cold, but he didn't change his mind. He just sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I want to help you, but I can't let you stay here anymore." Isaiah looked at Chrom, knowing he'd stop Soleil from arguing any further. "You fellers have armed men after you. You can't bring a war to my homestead. You already took one family from me."

Chrom slowly nodded in agreement. "Yeah." He said quietly. "We won't put your family at risk."

"But-"

"SOLEIL!" Chrom snapped. Soleil tensed up, not used to Chrom being angry with her. "We will not put Isaiah's family at risk. The Arch Surg is still after us, and we won't risk any fighting here. I've taken enough from him."

"Um… alright. I'll… uh… I'll go talk to Caeldori."

Soleil and Ophelia got up, and Isaiah followed them to make sure they left. Chrom decided to follow them out. He found Henry looking out towards Isaiah's carriage as it made its way back to the homestead. "It looks like Cordelia II and Sully's replacement are back from The Saltworks."

Isaiah glared at him. "Did you really have to put it that way?"

Henry shrugged as the carriage pulled in front of the homestead. As tense as the mood was otherwise, Ophelia and Soleil were relieved to see Caeldori hop off the carriage and walk towards them without a trace of a limp in her step. Ophelia and her embraced tightly. Soleil didn't feel it was appropriate for her to do the same, but she still gave her ally a genuine grin as she turned to her. "Caeldy!" Ophelia exclaimed. "Your leg is finally better!"

Caeldori smiled proudly, as if she'd overcome a failure on her part. "The Grimleal may be oppressive, but those doctors are well educated. It was quick and easy… once the cutting was over anyways. Maybe someday they'll have anesthetic that knocks you out completely. Oh well. I've taken worse." Caeldori also turned to Chrom in excitement, and it was then that she caught the tone of the older men. She looked to Isaiah and Gaius as he stepped out of the house, and their expressions weren't any softer. "Is… is something wrong?"

Soleil sighed. "Caeldori… we can't stay here anymore."

"Has something happened? Did you do something, Soleil?!"

"Oh shove off! I had nothing to do with it!"

"We were attacked by a Risen." Chrom answered.

"A Risen?! Not a Tunneller?!"

"No. It was a Risen."

"But… how-"

"I heard that an Arch Surg officer was capable of summoning them when we were at their fort a few days ago. I think he's using them as scouts. They're looking for us. If there's the slightest possibility that they've found us, we have to leave. We cannot bring a war to Isaiah's homestead. Especially not after everything he's done for us."

"Oh." Caeldori looked to Ophelia and Soleil, as if expecting some kind of good news, but their smiles were gone. "I see."

"I'm sorry." Isaiah said, though his words were more half hearted than they had been with Chrom. "I have to think of my family. Now everyone is already packed. We were just waiting for you to get back. It's… it's time."

"I see." Caeldori looked back to the badlands. "That makes sense."

Chrom looked back to Isaiah. "Thank you for everything."

"Of course. You can always come back, you know. It'd be nice to see each other every once in awhile. It's just… you can't stay here now. Not if you're being hunted."

Matilda seemed saddened for an instant before perking up, as if remembering that the house was now hers again. "Well, that's that. Come on, Caeldori. I'll help you back. Wouldn't want y'all to get a late start."

Caeldori stepped closer to Chrom. "Well… there's something I think I should tell you. We… we were followed here."

"What?!"

Matilda nodded. "Yeah. A small group of people started trailing us as we made our way from The Saltworks, but they left a ways back."

"But… it's possible it wasn't a coincidence. I just think you should know."

Chrom seemed to panic, but he calmed himself when he realized he was unnerving the girls. "Let's be safe about this. Aurora and Minerva are in the stables. We're leaving right now."

"And what. You think you can just fly away?"

The group turned in a panic to find over a dozen Risen cutting them off from the stables behind the homestead. Algol stood in the center. He grinned from ear to ear, giving an almost skeletal appearance, and shouldered his axe. "Damn it." Chrom muttered under his breath. He turned to Isaiah, as if to apologize, but only got a cold and bitter look in return.

"Y'all should have left last night!"

"I-I'm sorry."

The group looked over to see Cervantes, Farber, and Pheros approach from beside Algol. Cervantes smiled and held his axe while running his other hand through his beard. Farber gave a stern glare and readied his weapon with one hand while preparing a spell with the other. Pheros stood in front. Though she was a middle aged woman of average build with nothing more than a healing staff, she had a surprisingly threatening appearance. As intimidating as the men beside her were, her glare was the most severe of all. "Chrom. We would have words."


	36. That Quiet Autumn Evening

Chrom raised his hands into the air and slowly stepped towards the Arch Surg officers. Everyone with him turned to look at him as he did. Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori seemed to silently beg him not to get any closer, and Gaius gave him a worried look. Isaiah's expression was more bitter. He wanted Chrom to do whatever was needed to avoid any kind of threat to his loved ones. The only one not outwardly worried was Henry. He just smiled towards his former comrades. "Well hey! Walhart's old friends and Algol! It's been awhile!"

"Henry." Pheros responded. "I see you've switched sides on us. It doesn't exactly look like you're trying to capture these criminals."

"Aww." Algol said sarcastically. "And Archangel had such high hopes for you. The two of you go way back after all. She'll be so disappointed."

"Come on guys. We're all fighting the Grimleal here! We can all be on the same side."

"If only it were so easy, ma boy." Cervantes added. "Alas, these fellows have committed crime after crime against the Archanean Liberation Front. And after we showed you such hospitality in Nowi Falls."

Pheros clutched her healing staff more tightly, her hand shaking with contained rage. "Not to mention the crimes against the Valmese Empire."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Gaius roared in exasperation. "Walhart's gone! He's been gone for a long time, and he was on our side when he died! Let it go!"

"SILENCE!" Farber barked. "You're lying! He would never abandon his dream, and you'll pay for what you did to him!"

"But we didn't do anything! I don't even know who that is!" Soleil cried out. Pheros nodded.

"We understand this. We're going to make you a deal. We have no quarrel with any of you. We only want one man." Pheros turned to Chrom, her very light blue eyes burning with thirty years of fury. "The Exalt."

Farber's stoicism briefly disappeared, replaced with a twisted smile as sadistic as Algol's. "He stands accused of committing crimes against the Archanean Liberation Front, and the Valmese Empire."

Cervantes made a motion with his hands, as if cracking his knuckles. "The sentence is a good old fashioned beat down! First Pheros and I, then Farber and I, then Farber and Pheros, the all three of us for a Valmese arse kicking!"

Algol frowned, giving an almost childish tone. "Hey! What about me!"

"Aw hell. I forgot about Algol. Hold on! Let me redo my calculations!"

Ophelia defiantly stepped in front of Chrom, keeping him from moving even if he wanted to. She drew the Parallel Falchion, kept safely in her inventory ever since Chrom had given it to her at Nowi Falls, and struck a pose she thought was heroic. "Why would we even agree to that, you vile doers of evil?!"

"Because if you don't, we'll take all of you." Pheros stated bluntly. She nodded to Algol, and he raised his axe in the air. The Risen by him responded by raising their own weapons and roaring. It was a horrifying scene. Even after thirty years of not seeing them, Isaiah, Gaius, and Chrom shivered at the display. Henry seemed more amused than anything. "Give us Chrom, and we leave the rest of you alone. We only want him. If you resist us, then we'll take him from you." Pheros' whole body shook with anger, as if she could barely continue her calm and collected demeanor. "And we'll raze this entire homestead to the ground. Your choice."

Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori answered by readying their weapons, only to find that their companions didn't join them. One by one they looked to the former Shepherds to find solemn, or in Henry's case apathetic, looks. Even Gaius was hesitant to draw his weapon. Chrom appeared to accept his fate, and he even tried to step forward before Ophelia stopped him. "What are you doing?!"

"Ophelia… don't fight them."

"You're kidding me?!" Soleil responded. "Y-you want to go with them?!"

"They outnumber us, and I can't allow any harm to come to Isaiah's family."

"Who cares if they outnumber us!" Ophelia yelled. She tried to give a smile, but it failed to cheer anyone up. "The Shepherds were sometimes outnumbered, but they always won!"

"Don't give me that!" Chrom snapped. "I've already taken one family from Isaiah!" Chrom looked over to his old ally. Isaiah was clearly pained. He didn't want Chrom to get hurt, but he knew the Arch Surg would be capable of destroying his entire house without a second thought. He slowly nodded to Chrom. "I-I can't let anything happen to his family. Not after he's done so much for us."

"You don't have to do this!"

"He'll do whatever it takes to keep this war from my home!" Isaiah barked. "He took everything from me once. Never again."

"Never again." Chrom answered in kind as he brushed past Ophelia.

"Chrom no!" Ophelia pleaded.

"They'll kill you!" Caeldori yelled out, but Chrom just shook his head without turning around.

"No they won't. They need me to see their leader."

"But they'll probably torture you!"

"I can't let them threaten Isaiah's family."

The girls desperately turned to the others to find support. Caeldori looked to Gaius. "Please do something!"

"I'm sorry, Copy. His mind is made up."

"But he's only doing this out of guilt!"

"Guilt runs in his blood now. I know him. There's no deterring him when he's like this."

Soleil shot Isaiah an angry glare, and received one in return. "How could you encourage this?! You call yourself his friend!"

"Don't speak so highly of him. He killed my wife and daughter! He killed your father! I don't want this to happen, but I can't let this war come to my home! This is all your fault, and my family won't suffer for it!"

Ophelia turned to Henry and pointed the Falchion towards the Arch Surg officers. "Please, grandfather! We can take them, or maybe you can talk to them? You know them right?"

"Eh… I don't know. I don't think they like me very much, and I remember those four always talking about getting revenge on Chrom. I'm sure things will be fine."

By now Chrom was too far away for the girls to restrain. They frantically called for him to come back, and Gaius eventually broke down and did the same, but Chrom was unmoved. Even if they could defeat the four officers and the Risen, the slightest possibility of Isaiah and his family being harmed was unacceptable. Chrom had taken a family from Isaiah once. How could he ever live with himself if it happened again. The four Arch Surg, even Pheros, all gave devious smiles as Chrom neared them. He drew his Falchion only to immediately toss it to the ground. "Alright. Here I am. I'll come quietly. There's no need to hurt anyone."

"Oh that's not entirely true." Algol's Risen moved to block Chrom off from the rest of his allies. The four officers surrounded him, and Algol stood in front of him.

"I've surrendered!" Chrom said nervously. He took a deep breath, held his head high, and spoke again without any signs of fear in his tone. "I've surrendered. Let's be reasonable here."

"Let me show you just how much of a position you're in to negotiate." Algol produced a small dagger and drove it into Chrom's stomach. His smile grew until it had consumed his face as he forced the dagger upwards, rupturing most of Chrom's organs. Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori could just make out what was happening behind the Risen. They all screamed and cried out for the man they'd grown so close too, but the Risen readied their own weapons as if to ward them off. Algol held his dagger for several seconds before finally letting Chrom fall to the ground. Pheros then immediately applied her healing staff to him.

"Argh!" Chrom struggled to yell in between coughing and sputtering. "What are you doing?!"

Pheros responded by striking him in the back of the head with the shaft of her healing staff. "This is for my men at Fort Steiger!" Pheros then drew a short blade and ran it through Chrom's arm. Again the Arch Surg officer held it there for several seconds, reveling in Chrom's pain, before withdrawing it. She then applied her healing staff once more, instantly healing the wound.

"Did you think you could get away with your crimes, my boy? It's time for you to pay for your sins! You thought you could just go around killing whoever you wanted, but by the silvery fibers of my beard, you will pay for your crimes against our empire!" Cervantes then plunged his axe into Chrom's back, almost severing his spine, again Pheros applied her healing staff.

Farber dismounted his horse and placed his armored boot on Chrom's back. He drew a thunder tome and activated it. However, rather than send the electricity outwards, he sent it coursing through his body. The electrical energy made its way to the ground, but not before passing through Chrom's body. Farber laughed as the Exalt fried beneath him, until again Pheros used a healing staff. "FOR THE GLORY OF OUR EMPEROR!"

This continued for about five agonizing minutes. Each Arch Surg officer would take turns inflicting some terrible and painful injury on Chrom, only for Pheros to use her healing staff on him. Chrom would have died many times over otherwise. The four wanted him to suffer as much as possible. Save for Henry, who seemed in awe of their creativity, Chrom's allies couldn't bear the scene. Ophelia turned away and buried her face in Soleil's shoulder, wincing everytime her great uncle screamed. Soleil put her arm around her friend's back and tried to look strong for her, but she was on the verge of tears herself. Only her rage kept her sadness at bay, and she desperately yearned to draw her sword and attack, but the Risen readied their weapons whenever anyone moved, and Isaiah, tears in his own eyes, silently begged her not to with a strange mix of rage and desperation. Caeldori and Gaius just watched, just able to make out what was happening past the Risen keeping them away, with looks of contained fury. After what felt like an eternity, the four finally gave Chrom just a few seconds to recover. Pheros' healing staff had kept him from dying, and he was technically completely healthy, but Chrom was overwhelmed with fear and pain. He tried to stumble to his feet, but he barely managed to rise to his knees and produce a whimpering noise. Dignity was the last thing on his mind now. All he could do was shiver and cry uncontrollably as the blood spilled before his injuries healed ran down his arms. His four once and current foes took pride in their work, and they relished in his suffering before Algol finally stepped forward. "Alright. Enough playing with him. I'm taking off a limb! How about his right arm?! The one with the birthmark?!"

"No." Pheros snarled. She took her short blade and cut a line through Chrom's birthmark. Such was the cut's depth that the wound would certainly scar, as if there were a line through the mark. "I want him to be left with that. So he can remember what happened here, and our revenge. Take off his left arm."

"Time for your sins to take reign! This is the fate your crimes heralded in!" Algol raised his axe and let a grin take his face as he prepared to sever Chrom's left arm, an injury that Pheros' healing staff wouldn't be able to heal. Chrom's allies all turned away in misery, and the former Valmese generals all watched with anticipation. Chrom just closed his eyes and waited, sure that nothing would save him. Seconds went by however, and yet nothing happened. Chrom cautiously opened his eyes again to see the Risen in front of him dissipating. They hadn't been killed. Rather, Algol had lost the concentration to keep them summoned. He turned to see Algol grasping at an arrow that had impaled itself in his throat. It had apparently just happened, as Pheros, Farber, and Cervantes just now realized what was going on.

"A-Algol?!" Pheros exclaimed as he fell to the ground, lifeless. A second later, an arrow struck her in the shoulder and knocked her to the ground. Another arrow buried itself into the head of Farber's horse, causing the beast to die and crush its master. Chrom's allies briefly watched in wonder, daring to hope that some guardian angel was coming to their rescue, before an arrow dashed these hopes by burrowing itself between Soleil's shoulder blades. An arrow struck Henry just a moment later, and Gaius only avoided one by instinctively ducking to the ground. Almost three decades of being a gun for hire gave Gaius the ability to react quicker than his allies. While Soleil and Henry fell over, and while everyone else sprinted for cover, Gaius bolted back into the house, grabbed his arquebus on the wall just inside, and ran back into the badlands. Ophelia was also struck with an arrow as Gaius turned back to the house, and he followed its origin to a shadowy figure on the rooftop. Gaius could tell that the figure was aware of him, and he immediately took aim and fired. His long career served him well, and the shot hit the assailant dead center. The figure collapsed and rolled off the rooftop, ending the assault. Fearing for Chrom's life, Gaius didn't take time to reload. He instead sprinted towards his old friend and brutally assaulted Cervantes, the only Arch Surg officer still standing, with the butt of his firearm.

"YOU ABSOLUTE SACK OF GARBAGE!" Gaius roared as he struck at the former Valmese general. Cervantes was too confused to respond in turn. He just covered his head while glancing to the bodies of his comrades.

"Ow! Agh! Knock it off, boyo! Truce! TRUCE!"

"Why the hell would I do that?!"

"We clearly have another enemy here! Don't you want to find out what's happening?!"

"Well…" Gaius did lower his weapon, but he didn't say anything further to Cervantes. He instead ran over to the attacker's corpse and inspected it. Gaius froze in shock as he got a good look at it. The attacker had been a sniper, and it had been a woman. Most disturbingly, it had been undead. Gaius knew he's seen this entity before, and he figured out who the entity was fighting for. "Deadlords." He almost whispered. "Oh gods. Grimmies are really pissed off. Oh gods, oh gods. Gods NOOO!" Gaius almost turned and ran back, but he stopped in place. Curiosity took over him, and he walked over to the body and removed the sniper's helmet. So horrified was he by the discovery that he couldn't bring himself to move again for several minutes. "You…"

Chrom almost passed into unconsciousness, but the constant screaming that assaulted his ears forced his mind back to the present. He moved his head to see Algol lying lifelessly in a pool of his own blood. Pheros was beyond him, alive but wounded. In the background Chrom could hear the screams and shouts of the girls, and Isaiah and Matilda's voice could also be heard through the piercing sounds of the chaos around him. Chrom forced himself to his feet and retrieved the Falchion. The feel of it in his hands calmed him considerably. For everything that had happened in his life, that sword had always been by his side. As long as it was with him, things would never be hopeless. Chrom wiped his agony induced tears away, took deep breaths to end his shivering, and readied himself for battle. He was rewarded for his efforts with the clarity and compucture needed to dodge a heavy sword as it swung past him, almost taking off his head. He maneuvered to face his attacker, a mounted, heavily armored soldier. Chrom realized he was facing a paladin, but there was something off about this soldier. He was given little time to ponder it, as the paladin charged at him again a moment later. Chrom moved out of the way and felled the soldier's mount with a slash from the Falchion. He then drove it into the soldier before he could recover.

Chrom readied the Falchion and looked around, but he noticed something strange about the blade as it entered his view. There was no blood on it. Chrom looked back to the soldier in a mild panic and inspected the corpse, tensing up as his suspicions seemed to be proven true. The soldier had sickly pale skin, and there seemed to be a purplish hue to it. This was some kind of undead, but it was no Risen. No Tunneller. "No." Chrom whispered. "N-no that can't… they can't be here."

"CHROOOM!" The Exalt turned to see Gaius dragging a body towards him. In his rage and fury, he was able to drag the body with little strain, and he almost hurled it at Chrom. "Look at that!"

"W-what?"

"LOOK AT HER FACE! This is the archer that attacked! LOOK AT WHO SHE IS!"

Chrom wasn't sure why Gaius was shouting, or if his anger was directed towards him or not, but he did what his old ally asked. This body was also undead, with sickly skin and a purple glow to it. Chrom looked curiously until his eyes finally fell upon the woman's face. All emotion left his voice. So overcome with horror was he that his words came out blank and drone like. His mouth formed them, but they didn't feel like his. "Noire…"

"MY DAUGHTER!" Gaius shrieked. "TURNED INTO ONE OF THEM!" Gaius stopped shouting, and his anger fell away as his lip began to quiver. "Our… children. First they take them from us… then they send the bodies after us. The Grimleal… they've got a strange sense of humor. Don't they, Chrom?" Gaius gave a strange laugh, like there was no way he could really process what he was feeling. "Heh. Heh, heh! Don't they?! DON'T THEY?! ... bastards."

Chrom went back to the paladin and removed the man's helmet, but that sight was no more encouraging. He had pink hair and a mask that covered his eyes. "Gerome." Chrom said, again in shock. "Oh my gods…" Both men couldn't bring themselves to move for several minutes. As much as Chrom could have stood there, overloaded with shock and self-loathing, indefinitely, his mind was still drawn back to the shouting in the distance, especially when he again realized the voices belonged to Isaiah and the girls. Sure enough, the Deadlords Draco and Equus hadn't come alone. Several other Deadlords were fighting the rest of Chrom's friends, and they were as violent as terrifying as he remembered them. Perhaps more than. Chrom was still emotionless and in shock from what had just happened. It wasn't any conscious thought or feeling that caused him to launch himself forward. It was automatic. He would not be still for one more second if Isaiah and the three needed his help.

In the confusion of the attack, Isaiah had retrieved his matchlock arquebus, a short spear, and a pot that he wore as a helmet. He and Matilda, armed only with a metal pan, desperately tried to fend off Anguilla. Isaiah had been skilled enough to disarm the Deadlord but, having been formed from Yarne, Anguilla was more than capable of fighting them unarmed. Nearby, Caeldori and Ophelia had to work together to be a match for Tigris. As fast and graceful as she was, Caeldori could not match Tigris' raw strength, but Ophelia had some success blasting him with attacks from her tome. Henry tried to cover her from spells that Gallus was hurtling at her, but the Deadlord, formed from Laurent was more than a match for him. Unfortunately, Ophelia was too distracted from protecting Caeldori to notice Porcus sneaking up behind her. Before she could react, and thief wrapped its arm around her neck and plunged a dagger through her back; somewhat ironically, the same thing Chrom had once done to save her from a would be burglar when they first met. Caeldori wasn't a match for Tigris, who got its fighting spirit from Priam, by herself, and the Deadlord eventually disarmed her. Caeldori bravely tried to fight with her fists, but the Deadlord caught her hand, crushed her fingers by simply squeezing downwards with its own, and plunged its axe into her shoulder. It then drew its bow and brought an arrow into Henry's shoulder, giving Gallus the opportunity to knock him back with a spell. The triumphant Deadlords then advanced towards Isaiah and Matilda, who nervously backed away towards their home.

"Isaiah?" Matilda said. She had little fear in her voice. Rather, she seemed to have given up any hope that she'd survive the attack at all.

"Matilda? My wife?" Isaiah responded with a similar amount of determination.

"They… they won't hurt the kids? Will they?"

"No." Isaiah knew he was lying, but he'd say anything to calm Matilda in that moment. "They won't.

"I… I'm glad I met you, my love. I know I hated it out here at first… but I'm so glad I went with you. T-together."

Isaiah turned to his wife and forced himself to smile. "Together."

"NO! NOT THEM!" The Deadlords turned in perfect unison as the Falchion impaled itself into Tigris' abdomen. "I'M THE ONE YOU WANT!" Chrom shouted as he forced the Falchion upwards, slicing the Deadlord's head in half as the sword exited through the top of its head. "I'M THE ONE THEY SENT YOU TO KILL! ME! LEAVE THEM ALONE!" Porcus tried to hurl a dagger at Chrom, but he caught it and hurled it back. The weapon struck the Deadlord with enough force to return the body to its natural state of death, but Chrom wasn't actually paying attention. He'd instead charged at Anguilla without hesitation, and just as before he brought down the Deadlord's mount before killing the rider. Gallus tried to attack him, but Henry recovered enough to stun it with a spell, and Chrom cut it down before it could react further. For a few minutes, in his desperate attempt to save his allies, Chrom moved almost like he did as a young man. With that moment over, Chrom's age returned tenfold. He fell to his knees exhausted. He even had to use the Falchion to brace himself. Everyone slowly gathered around him.

"Are you hurt?" Henry asked Gaius as he wandered over.

"No." Gaius was amazed by how violently and quickly Chrom had dealt with the Deadlords. He was definitely taken by surprise when Henry drained some of his life energy and used it to heal Caeldori and Ophelia's injuries. "Ow! Junior!"

"You said you weren't hurt! I couldn't do that to someone who was. That just wouldn't work."

Tired as he was, Chrom didn't allow himself any rest. He knew the Deadlords were never separated, and they'd only taken out six of them. "There are… more Deadlords." He struggled to say through his raspy breathing.

Ophelia looked up as she rubbed her back. "Deadlords?"

Caeldori seemed to recognize what Chrom was talking to. "I suspected those things were undead, but I didn't imagine we'd ever face the Deadlords. Oh gods. The Grimleal is serious this time."

"That… that sounds cool! We're fighting the Deadlords? That sounds awesome! Another blood pumping chapter in the chosen heroine's story!" Ophelia looked around in excitement, but her friends didn't share her enthusiasm. "But for now we'll just focus in fighting them… heh, heh."

"Is everyone alright?" Chrom asked as he finally rise to his feet again.

"I-I think so." Matilda replied, a little shaken up.

"Where are your children?"

"In the house."

"Alright. Both of you, hide in there! I'm so sorry, Isaiah. This is my fault, but I won't let any further harm come to you."

Isaiah shook his head and gave a determined look. "No. I don't want to hear it. All that matters now is stopping them." Isaiah kissed his wife and nodded. "Take the kids. Get them upstairs with Ma. Barricade the door." Matilda nodded and went inside the house, and Isaiah readied his spear. "You did this… but I'll fix it with you. Side by side."

Chrom slowly smiled, feeling a camaraderie with Isaiah. "Just like old times."

"Uhh, Tinhead?" Gaius spoke up. "Do you have a pot in your head?"

"Yeah."

"Just like you did thirty years ago?"

"Yes?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"It's armor!"

"Damn it, Tinhead! I'm trying to be serious but you're making me want to laugh!"

"It's my helmet!"

The lightheartedness of the moment faded as the other six Deadlords finally entered into view. This time they all stood together, unwilling to be defeated one by one. Mus stood in the center, with Bovis, Lepus, Ovis, Simia, and Canis by its side. The first and third generation Shepherds all readied their weapons and stood together.

Meanwhile, Pheros had been forcing her injured body to her healing staff, telling herself that the unbearable pain would pass as soon as she retrieved it. With the last of her strength she ripped the arrow from her, seized the healing staff, and used it to regain her strength. She then sprinted over to Algol and checked his body. Though he was still and covered in blood from a severed artery, his eyes slowly moved to look at Pheros. She callously tore the arrow from his throat and used her healing staff to keep him from bleeding to death. "Algol! Resummon your Risen! We're outmatched here! _Resummon your Risen_!"

Algol took several seconds to cough up all the blood in his throat, but he ultimately stood up and managed the concentration to bring the Risen back. He directed them to unpin Farber from underneath his horse, and Pheros healed his injuries. Cervantes walked over to the three as they caught their breath, pointing towards the battle by the homestead. "Sooo… do we leave? Attack the winners?"

Pheros assumed her usual pose and contemplated the options. "These aren't regular Grimleal forces. These are the Deadlords! We've only ever heard about them in reports. This is an opportunity we can't pass up. As much as I hate to say it… we need to help them."

By the homestead, Chrom and his allies were not repeating their earlier success against the Deadlords. They were far more coordinated now, and they didn't allow themselves to be separated or lured away. Chrom remembered that Mus seemed to be the lead Deadlord and tried to single it out, but Mus was more than capable of holding its own. Just a few blows from the general's weapon made Chrom's arms scream with exhaustion, and he was almost overpowered before managing to unload both barrels of the Thundergrypp into his foe. The bullet simply deflected off the Deadlord's heavy armor, but Chrom had the opportunity to slash at its head. He immediately regretted it. Chrom only managed to knock off the Deadlord's helmet, exposing the face of the woman it was formed from. Chrom immediately froze in shock, having lost track of how many times he'd done that in the past several minutes. It'd be far worse if he hadn't already faced E-13. "Lucina." He said blankly. "How many times must I be forced to fight you?" The body was sickly and glowed an eerie purple just like the other Deadlords, but it was still unmistakably the body of Chrom's daughter. Her birthmark was even still present on her left eye, but it was now a black silhouette against the glowing red. Chrom steeled himself and raised his sword, internally screaming to himself that this was not his daughter. "I'm sorry, Lucina. You didn't ask much of me. You only asked that I help you. That I fight by your side. That I love you… and I failed you. I'm so sorry… but I didn't fail you completely. I still love you, and I always will. My baby girl." Mus simply advanced, its massive sword ready to strike. "But I have to stop you. For those that still live, I have to fight you. I will free you from this. You're not a weapon! You're not a tool! You're a woman! You're my daughter! I'll save you from this. I promise, and I won't fail you again." Chrom tried to rush his enemy, but Mus brought the offensive to an end with a single blow from its sword. Chrom was forced to his knees, desperately pressing the Falchion against Mus' sword and trying not to be crushed by its strength. "Ah! You have no soul!"

To Chrom's horror, the Deadlord spoke, letting out a raspy, barely feminine voice. "And that is why we have no _fear_!"

Chrom ducked to the side as Mus finally brought its sword down, but was unable to counter when Mus lifted up the hilt and smashed it into his face. With surpassing speed for its size, Mus then brought the blade cleaving through Chrom's body, almost severing his left arm and killing him outright. Blood poured outwards from the Exalt's body, and as he slowly brought his head down to see what had happened to him, his mind flashed back to the last time he'd seen so much blood coming from a sword wound to the abdomen. It was when he'd unintentionally cut down his daughter thirty years ago. The event that ultimately lead to Mus' creation now. Just as when E-13 had almost killed him at Cordelia's homestead, Chrom couldn't help but think that this death at his daughter's hand was a form of penance. Just as when he'd been mercilessly attacked by the Arch Surg officers, Chrom didn't think there was anything he could do to defend himself. Ironically, the aforementioned group was the one to save him this time. Before Mus could bring down its sword, two Risen mobbed it. As Mus fought them off, Farber blasted it in the back with a spell. Mus staggered forward, and Cervantes ran up and brought his axe into its chest. "I remember you!" Cervantes exclaimed when he noticed Mus' face. "You royal whore!" Cervantes grabbed the Deadlord's long, blue hair, a relic of the woman that it had been reincarnated from, and forcibly held its head in place.

"Hold still, you little rat." Algol said as he casually raised his axe and lopped off the head of the Future Witness' reanimated corpse. Mus fell to the ground, its latest venture to the world of the living over. The three looked over the body with pride before turning to Chrom. They had little sympathy for him as his body shut down. "Well look at that. He died on his own. I love a happy ending."

Ophelia had been watching, and she threw herself to Chrom's side. At the sound of her almost feral feelings of rage and sorrow, Soleil and Caeldori ran to her side. Farber, Cervantes, and Algol simply watched as they desperately tried to resuscitate him, and the three men gave a cold laugh as the three women realized just how hurt he was.

"No, no!" Caeldori yelled. She tried nudging Chrom's body, only to find that her hand was almost instantly coated in his blood. "No-no-no-no-no-no-no, no, NO, NO! _**DANG IT**_!"

"T-this isn't how it's supposed to be!" Ophelia roared in his face as she hovered over him. "You're a hero! Heroes don't die in a pool of their own blood! That's not how the stories go! No that's not, no you can't, no that's not happening! This isn't funny! THE STORY ISN'T OVER!"

Soleil still had her smile, but it was almost alien on her otherwise tortured face. Soleil nudged him over and over, refusing to look at her own increasingly bloodied hands. "But… I opened up to you. You can't just… this isn't how it's supposed to go! You can't just leave! Please, no! NO!" Soleil finally gave up and buried her head in Chrom's shoulder. "Y-you told me you loved me! I-I love you too! You're the closest thing I've had to a father! You can't die now! Not in some farm in the middle of nowhere! Not to some Grimleal monster! This isn't how it's supposed to be! Ple-hea-hease! DON'T just LEAVE! GET UP!"

Chrom could hear people next to him, but his mind wouldn't concentrate on them. Everything was becoming blurry, and he began to mutter, seemingly involuntarily. "Here in my empire. That you do not remember."

"What does that mean?! Chrom! Get up!"

Farber, Cervantes, and Algol had no problem with watching the young women in front of them see their hero die, but Pheros stepped out from behind them and tightened her grip on her healing staff. Cervantes realized what she was doing, and held his arm out to stop her. "What are you doing? This is our chance to get rid of him."

"Have you no honor, Cervantes? We're not… we're not enemies right now. We have bigger problems."

Pheros walked towards Chrom, and the third generation Shepherds rose to their feet and pointed their weapons at her. "How dare you?!" Soleil snapped. "Get away from him!"

"You need not direct your anger at me, girl." Pheros said as she applied her healing staff to Chrom, seconds away from dying of shock otherwise. "I'm clearly not your enemy."

Chrom violently inhaled and descended into a hacking fit. The girls swarmed him as he rose to his feet, almost causing him to cough even more. "Chrom!" Soleil exclaimed as she buried her head in his shoulder again. "Gods-damnit, old man! You scared us!"

"But we made it out." Ophelia said triumphantly as she turned to Caeldori, who nodded with a relieved smile. "We made it out. Heroes of holy blood always prevail over the undead!"

Chrom looked down at his body once the three let go of it. His work shirt now had a rather sizeable tear in it from the sword slash, and Chrom was drenched in his own blood. He was sure that would cause severe lightheadedness once the adrenalin wore off, but for now he was otherwise fine. "What of the other Deadlords?"

Pheros motioned behind her. Algol's Risen were no match for their more advanced counterparts individually, but in numbers they were able to force the five remaining Deadlords back. "We can deal with them together when you're ready."

"Really." Chrom readied the Falchion. "And we're just going to trust you now."

"No." Pheros refused to show any physical remorse for her actions, but she did hesitate. "We can't expect you to trust us, but we have the same foe. We don't need to fight each other right now."

Isaiah and Gaius approached, nervous around the Arch Surg but relieved to see everyone else okay. "So that's it?" Gaius asked with a genuine smile. "We beat them! Huh. Things were easy for once."

"Just like old times." Isaiah said. For a moment, Chrom could see his younger counterpart in Isaiah's smiling face. He looked excited for the first time. "Just like old times."

"About that." Caeldori took a few steps forward and studied the Deadlords as they defended themselves from Algol's Risen. They showed no fear or hesitation in their movements earlier, and even now they fought the Risen without a trace of emotion. It didn't make sense. Why were they retreating if they were perfectly willing to fight to the death. "I don't think they're falling back. I think they were ordered to… lure the Risen away." Caeldori turned in panic. "Someone's directing them!"

"That's crazy!" Soleil said in frustration. "Fight's over! We won."

"You just want to believe that, Soleil. It doesn't make it true. Do you really think the Deadlords were alone? They probably had Grimleal agents directing them."

Gaius thought about it. "Well.. things are never that easy for us."

"Fuck in 'ell! They told me those diggers were good, and some wops in the middle of bloody fucking woop woop kill half of them! I ask for a mallee bull, and I get a bunch of derros!" Chrom and the others turned to look at the robed man as he walked towards them. "Oh well. I don't mind doing my own work. I like the practice. Besides, it's not everyday I get to hunt people like you."

Everyone was horrified at the sight of the man, and Caeldori in particular screamed. The robed man was wearing a backpack consisting of just a spike. Impaled at the top of the spike was the severed head of a woman with long, red hair. Chrom's eyes widened, and Caeldori's stoicism was completely wiped away. "GRANDMOTHER!" She shouted in agony.

The man took his arm and manipulated the mouth of Cordelia's severed head. "I don't know, Dartsmoth." He said while pretending to speak in her voice. "These guys look pretty tough." "Really? I think you overestimate their chances."

"Who the hell are you?!" Chrom snarled in barely contained rage.

"Inquisitor Dartsmoth. Don't worry. I already know who you are, and… heh." Dartsmoth's thuggish face actually seemed to blush a little, and there was a perk in his step as he slowly approached the group. "You're uh… heh, they didn't mention how handsome you were in your file. I mean, wow! They didn't make you look good in the picture, but you're so rugged!"

"What is wrong with you?!" Gaius shouted. "Do you know who that woman is?!"

"Sure do! Cordelia. Obnoxious crush on Chrom. Raised Caeldori since she was five years old. Became a Pegasus Knight because she was a lousy runner. Weird breast complex. Played the harp. Does that sound familiar?"

"H-how do you-"

"I've been talking to her quite a bit. She's been helping me navigate, and she's told me so much about you. Especially you three girls." Dartsmoth looked to each of them and smiled. "Oh, Soleil. Always picking fights with Caeldori. Ophelia, annoying her with constant talk of heroism and naming weapons and attacks. Caeldori, oh she had so many memories of you. You used to hate taking baths as a little girl. She'd take you into the sky on her Pegasus, and you'd cling to her waist. Always trying to use her weapons when she wasn't around."

Caeldori had to back away to feel comfortable. "How could you possibly know any of that?!" Chrom roared. Dartsmoth continued.

"Unfortunately she couldn't tell me much about you, Chrom. I can tell you're something else though. See I get sent after a lot of gangbangers and corrupt officials, but you? A hero! A lord! And I get to be the one to hunt you! It's a real honor. A violent man who has spent his life killing people and thinking himself righteous for it. I've had a lot of fun going after you, and now? Now we get to my favorite part."

"Enough of this!" Gaius took aim with his arquebus and fired. The bullet would have struck Dartsmoth in the forehead, but it somehow deflected off of thin air a few centimeters away from him.

"Heh, you're going to have to do better than that. You're Gaius, aren't you? Cordelia told me about you! Mmm. So many handsome men here today."

Ophelia drew a tome and sent a fireball at Dartsmoth. It paused in midair in front of him. "What the-"

"Ha! Is that all you got?!" Dartsmoth casually walked up and touched the spell, causing it to rocket back and explode in front of its creator. Algol tried to raise his axe and call his Risen back to help, but Dartsmoth waved his hand and sent an electrical attack hurtling towards him. It struck Algol and then arced into Cervantes and Farber. Algol and Cervantes were electrocuted, almost to the point of death, but Farber was able to resist it. Dartsmoth was unfazed, and he telekinetically seized Algol's axe and ruthlessly drove it into Farber's head, leaving only Pheros. Dartsmoth sent another spell at her, and she tried to resist it. It was far too much power for her to simply resist, so she panickedly deflected it instead, sending it into Isaiah's house. The unnaturally powerful electricity instantly set the structure ablaze.

" _ **NOOOOO**_!" Isaiah screamed.

"Ha!" Dartsmoth burst out laughing. "BWAHAHAHA! Whoopsies!"

"Uhh…" Pheros muttered. "Ooh." She turned back to Dartsmoth just in time to take a brutal punch to the face, incapacitating her. Meanwhile Isaiah tried to sprint back into his burning home, but Gaius physically stopped him and wrestled him back.

"Donnel, stop!"

"LET GO OF ME!"

"Don't go in there, you idiot!"

"MY FAMILY IS IN THERE!"

"You'll die!"

Isaiah elbowed Gaius and dashed back to his house. The magically generated fire burned with a greater intensity than normal. The house collapsed entirely just before Isaiah could reach it, dooming the inhabitants. Isaiah fell to his knees, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Gaius trying shaking him, and Chrom called out to him, but he wouldn't say anything. He became stuck, as if he were a piece of scenery.

Meanwhile, Henry tried to attack Dartsmoth with spells, but he easily deflected them all. "Ophelia! My tome!"

"Huh?" Ophelia answered as she recovered.

"The tome I gave you!"

Ophelia gave the Muninn tome back to Henry, and a few seconds later a raven flew down from overhead. Henry quickly absorbed it and attacked Dartsmoth again. This time he was forced several steps back, but he was still unharmed. "Ha! Wow! I've never seen anything like that. You're a skilled mage, but can you fight through less esoteric means? I don't have time for little schoolboys who won't fight in the gutter." Dartsmoth advanced on Henry, deflecting his spells and curses, until he was able to simply strike at him with his fists. Henry had always relied on magic to deal with his enemies, and he wasn't able to stand up to Dartsmoth's physical assault.

"AH! Argh, heh, heh! Heh, heh, heh! A-alright!" Henry groaned as Dartsmoth sent him to the ground with a strike to the stomach. "I always wanted a *cough* bloody death!"

Dartsmoth just shook his head and struck him again before enduring a frigid blast of wind. He turned to see Ophelia. She readied herself for battle, and Caeldori and Soleil took up positions behind Dartsmoth. "Ah! Yeah I do have orders to bring you three in. Course I really don't much care for you three bitch bushrangers, so could you kindly just roll over so I can get to the more interesting people?"

"You can't take all three of us!" Soleil shouted.

Dartsmoth's only response was to laugh. The moment one of the girls tried moving, Dartsmoth spun around and hurled Cordelia's severed head at Caeldori. The brutality of this was too much for her, and the normally agile warrior just froze in place. Dartsmoth proceeded to approach Soleil, dodge her furious strikes, and disarm her. He then removed her arm shield and viciously beat her with it. He then beat Caeldori, too stunned to react, into near unconsciousness. The entire time this had been happening, Ophelia had been furiously casting spells at Dartsmoth, but he simply resisted all of them. He finally turned to her and smiled while motioning for her to move forward. "Come on, Sheila. Your turn." With nothing else to do, Ophelia drew the Falchion and tried to charge the Inquisitor, but Dartsmoth blocked the blade with his bare hand. On closer inspection, he actually seemed to be telekinetically stopping it centimeters away from his hand. "No, no, no! Get this bloody thing off of me!" Dartsmoth sent the sword hurtling away, then wrapped both of his hands around Ophelia's neck. "I bet you think your bloodline makes you real important, but the age of privilege is over."

"Ophelia!" Soleil made a last, desperate attempt to save her friend, but Dartsmoth dodged her attack.

"Cheeky ganga! At least take me out before you try to root me!" Dartsmoth kicked her in the face, placed his hands on her chest, and channeled magical energy into her body. Soleil went flying backwards a few seconds later. Ophelia had fallen to the ground gasping for air, so Dartsmoth telekinetically forced her back into his arms only to brutally slam her into the ground. "Now die with the rest of your family!" Dartsmoth resumed choking Ophelia until her struggling ceased. He then stood up and formed a lightning bolt in his hand, except that it didn't move and he held it as if it were a physical object. The same magical energy that Grima had once used to kill Chrom in Lucina's alternate future. Dartsmoth was moments away from driving this into Ophelia when Henry's other raven dived down from overhead and clawed at him. Though she had no conscious idea what she was doing, Ophelia somehow knew how to absorb it. It just felt right, and her grandfather's magical energy was readily accepted by her body. She unleashed a blast of raw dark magic powerful enough to send Dartsmoth off of her, then in another display of her natural ability managed to copy Dartsmoth's attack exactly. Without really knowing how she was doing it, Ophelia materialized a lightning bolt in her own hand and impaled it through Dartsmoth. It was a moment of hope for everyone, as one by one Ophelia's allies all looked up to see it. For a moment it seemed like the threat was over… but then everyone noticed that Dartsmoth refused to fall over. Blood seemed to pour from his mouth, but it was only blood in the sense that it was bleeding out of him. The liquid was bright gold, and it actually gave off light. Dartsmoth was in considerable pain, but not enough to actually neutralize him. "You… you copied my spell. Only the strongest dark mages can do that. You, you have potential!" Dartsmoth smiled as he placed his arms on Ophelia's shoulders. Ophelia was stunned that he'd survived, and couldn't bring herself to do anything. "That would have killed me if I was still human, but… not anymore. You on the other hand?" Dartsmoth pulled Ophelia into him, impaling her with the same lightning bolt she'd attacked him with. He then freed himself, summoned his own, and ran her through completely. "Are very fragile." Ophelia collapsed to the ground as soon as Dartsmoth withdrew his attack, and he smiled. "One down." Dartsmoth turned over to Chrom. Though he was still very injured, he was sent into a fit of rage at Dartsmoth's actions. "One to go."

"YOU BASTARD!" Chrom willed himself forward with the intent of striking Dartsmoth down. His muscles begged for him to stop, and he was still in considerable shock, but pure hatred drove him. Dartsmoth simply stood and smiled. He allowed Chrom to get within a few meters of him before telekinetically gripping Chrom's foot. He then simply tripped him up. For no other reason than his own enjoyment, he allowed Chrom to get up only to do this again. He did this several times before finally placing his boot on Chrom's chest. He then summoned a lightning bolt and put it just centimeters away from Chrom's face, threatening him with the same fate that his counterpart had suffered in Lucina's timeline.

"Aversa wants you alive, Chrom. Surrender, and this doesn't have to be any harder."

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

"No you won't. You'll lie there like a bitch. Now Aversa wants you alive, but she doesn't need you alive. It's in your best interest to do what you're told. Handsome man like you deserves more than a gangbanger styled death. Besides, Aversa really wants to talk to you again."

"I have nothing to say to her!"

"Well you should. Grima wants you dead, so you don't want her to decide not to keep you around."

Chrom's rage left him, replaced by overwhelming sadness at what Dartsmoth had just done to his friends. Chrom wondered if Gaius had survived, and his question was answered as a bullet tore through the back of Dartsmoth's head. Chrom felt a small amount of relief as Gaius ran over to him and helped him up, but Ophelia's death was still crushing. "Sack of trash!" Gaius roared at Dartsmoth's body. Shimmering golden liquid poured from the wound, and Gaius' anger was replaced by repulsion and confusion. "What the hell was that man?!"

"OPHELIA!" Chrom said, not caring about anything else. "Check on her! Please!"

Gaius nodded and ran off after her, and Chrom looked around to see what had befallen everyone else. He couldn't see Soleil or Caeldori, but he did see that Isaiah had moved. He was behind Chrom, his matchlock arquebus in his hand. " _You_."

"Donnel! You're alright-"

"You did this." Isaiah was kneeling by the corpse of Porcus. The Deadlord had been reincarnated from the body of his daughter, and Isaiah's tortured expression made it clear that he knew. He pointed his weapon at Chrom, who took a few steps back. Isaiah briefly glanced back at the burning remains of his home. When he turned back, his eyes were choked with hatred. Whereas Chrom had thrown himself at Dartsmoth, Isaiah's hatred took a quiet form. He didn't move at all, and his eyes never looked away from Chrom. His sole focus was on the man he blamed for the war that came to his home.

"D-Donnel. Isaiah." Chrom said as he raised his hands.

"You. Did. This."

"I-I… I'm so sorry. We s-should have left. What are you doing?!"

Isaiah took out a small lit piece of wood and ignited the match on his firearm. "This is an older model, Chrom. It has no trigger. It goes off when the match burns out. Now nothing will stop it from firing. The only question is what will be on the other end of the barrel."

"Donnel… please… don't do this. D-don't do this."

"And I saw what happened to Ophelia. That's your fault too, you know?" Isaiah took aim. "Everyone just keeps dying, but not you. Never you. Other people suffer for you knowing them."

Chrom's every combat instinct wanted to grab the Falchion and disarm Isaiah, and Chrom's rational thoughts told him he could negotiate, but Chrom was in too much shock that Isaiah was threatening him at all. He was also weighed down by his guilt. As terrified as he was of being shot, Chrom didn't disagree with anything Isaiah told him. "Donnel… please think about this. I've wronged you again. I've gotten these people killed. I brought this to your family. I am so sorry, but this isn't going to change that. D-don't do this!"

The match continued to burn, but Isaiah didn't relent. "I could do it, Chrom. I could gun you down right here and now, and I wouldn't feel a thing. Everything that's happened to the world is your fault!" Isaiah's expression softened, his quiet rage consumed by the horrible loss of his loved ones. "But… people still need you."

"Donnel? What are you saying?"

Isaiah looked Chrom in the eye and just stared at him for several seconds. "I'm sorry, Chrom. I can't lose another family." Isaiah grabbed the barrel of the gun and placed it on his chin pointing upwards. Chrom immediately tried to sprint forward and take it from him, but the match burned out before he could. Chrom cradled his ally in his arms and tried to check on him, but it was far too late.

"Donnel! No-no-NO! It didn't have to be like this! NO! _**DONNEL**_!"

Gaius and Henry slowly approached behind Chrom, having seen everything. Chrom looked up, desperate for some kind of good news, but Gaius also had a body in his arms. He gently set Ophelia down on the ground. She was completely and entirely motionless. "She… didn't make it… Blue. She's… she's… I couldn't save her, Blue. She died instantly."

Neither of the two men had anything to say. Minutes passed, but time had no meaning for Chrom. Nothing did. "Why her." He said blankly, his voice again stripped of emotion. "So many people taken from me, but I always survive. Why did I have to see this?"

"I… don't know."

The former Shepherds could have stood still, short circuited by the trauma they'd just endured, for hours, but a brilliant golden light emanating from Dartsmoth's body made them both draw their weapons. Gaius started to load his arquebus as Dartsmoth levitated off the ground and rose to his feet. "Bloody pikers! I wasn't paying attention!"

Dartsmoth still wasn't paying attention, as again Gaius was able to send a bullet through his head. Gaius and Chrom watched as Dartsmoth fell dead again. He was the same as before, and he somehow hadn't died then. "What is that man?!" Gaius yelled. "I don't think he's going to stay down. We need to leave."

"What?! Where's Soleil and Caeldori?"

"I didn't see them."

"And you want us to just leave them?!"

"Chrom, we don't have a choice! I don't want to leave them alone! I don't! But we can't beat that man! That thing! If we stay, he'll kill us all."

"We're not leaving them!"

"Chrom!"

"WE'RE NOT LEAVING THEM!"

"We leave them, or we all die! We have to leave!"

Chrom knew the truth in Gaius' words. If Dartsmoth regenerated again, and if he couldn't simply be shot, he'd kill them all. With all the horrifying violence he'd seen in the past hour, it was disturbingly easy for him to accept it. He couldn't save Caeldori and Soleil, but he could save his allies. He couldn't let them die for his actions. "Alright." Chrom said quietly. "Alright."

"Come on. We'll take Minerva."

"What about Aurora?"

"She's a Pegasus! She won't accept a male rider. We'll just have to hope that she flies after us."

The three made their way towards the stable, Chrom carrying Ophelia and the Parallel Falchion along, and crammed onto Minerva's back. The wyvern wasn't used to not having one of the girls by them, and she initially refused to budge. "Come on!" Gaius shouted as he kicked her. "I know I'm not Cherche, but you need to work with me!"

Minerva was reluctant to move until the five remaining Deadlords burst into the stables. Simia cut Minerva with its sword, and the wyvern panicked and ascended into the atmosphere, leaving Aurora and the homestead behind.

Dartsmoth regenerated once again, brilliant golden light coming from his body as he rose. After realizing the former Shepherds were gone, Dartsmoth sighed, lit a cigarette, and walked over to where Caeldori had been. The very injured Pegasus Knight was crawling for her lance, so Dartsmoth simply kicked it away and knelt in front of her. "Where are your friends going?"

"I'm not telling you _anything_."

Dartsmoth casually took his cigarette and burned her forehead. "You say that now, but they always talk eventually."

A recon soldier walked up with Soleil in his arm. He pointed a pistol to her head. "I found this one, Inquisitor. What should we do with her?"

Dartsmoth stared at her for a few seconds. "Hit her."

"What?!"

"Don't question me! Just do what men have done for thousands of years and hit the woman!" The recon soldier struck Soleil across the face with his pistol, and Caeldori winced. Dartsmoth noticed. "Ah! You can take a lot of punishment, but you can't bear to see her get hurt. The three of us are going to have a lot of fun together."


	37. The War Fought Throughout and Within

In the city of Ylisstol, the de jure but not de facto capital of the Grimleal, the royal palace was abuzz was activity. Palace servants and workers scurried around the throne room carrying various supplies, treasures, and personal artifacts. Emperor Gangrel occasionally stopped to watch, but his attention was largely focused elsewhere. Rather, he and his wife were watching over a group of workers as they tried to remove a painting from the wall. The painting was over six meters long and almost as tall, and it was quite prominently positioned in the area behind the throne. It was only one of many valuable objects being removed from the palace, but it was of particular importance to Gangrel.

As the Emperor of humanity, Gangrel controlled the most wealth, the most soldiers, and the majority of the population. As High Inquisitor, however, Aversa had a closer direct connection to Grima. It was Gangrel's responsibility to keep humanity pacified, but it was Aversa's responsibility to enforce the Fell Dragon's will. Aversa thus had the authority to take anything she deemed necessary to achieve this from Gangrel whenever Black Authority was issued. For everything the Emperor had, there was nothing Aversa didn't have the right to take now. Though Grima intended Aversa to only appropriate what was necessary, the Fell Dragon didn't truly care to limit her, and Aversa wasn't exactly conservative in her taste. If anything, she'd take something just because she knew it would annoy Gangrel. Ever since he'd heard of Black Authority being issued and Aversa's imminent arrival, Gangrel had been furiously working to hide what he could. The important assets, such as Kryczek's Reaver program or his beloved Shepherd Slayer outfit, had already been spirited away, but the palace still contained priceless objects. Gangrel worked to save what he could, but he knew there was no way it could all be sent away before Aversa came to seize it. He tried not to think about Aversa as he watched the workers take down the massive painting. His wife stood by him with crossed arms, her face scrunching with anger until she finally directed her piercing voice towards him. "I can't believe you!" She almost shrieked in her hostile and very familiar tone. Gangrel sighed even further. If it was possible to physically feel one's manhood retract into oblivion, it was happening to Gangrel right now. "I have thousands of gold coins worth of jewelry and clothing still in this palace, and you're having the workers waste their time with this stupid painting! Why don't you ever think about me for once?! Your artwork is more important than my happiness!"

Gangrel ran his hand down his face in frustration. "I guarantee you, dear, that Aversa has no interest in your jewelry or clothes. She's the most powerful woman in the world. There's no physical want she can't have at the snap of her fingers."

"Then why do you think she'd want this awful painting?!"

"Because I want it! She wants it because she knows I like it, and she'll happily take something from me just because she knows it'll upset me."

"Who cares if she takes it! It's just a tacky painting. We can always get a new one painted. Who's going to replace my jewelry! You?! My selfish husband who couldn't keep it from being taken in the first place? I don't think so."

"Do you know how significant this painting is?"

"Oh, please do enlighten me as to its importance." She responded sarcastically. Gangrel sighed and did just that, regardless of whether or not his wife actually wanted to hear it.

"Plegia was not a hereditary monarchy. I was born in the slums. I had no relation to the previous king of Plegia. The Plegian King or Queen was whoever was strong enough to seize the throne." Gangrel chuckled. "T-there was an old joke about Plegian monarchs. So a new monarch ascends the throne, and he finds two letters written by the previous monarch. He is to open them whenever he is in trouble. Eventually the new King becomes unpopular with the people, so he opens the first letter. He is told to blame all the problems on the previous monarch, so he does. Everyone believes him, and for a time everything is fine. Eventually he gets into trouble again, so he opens second letter. Do you know what it said?" Gangrel turned to his wife, who only returned a bitter glare. "It said… sit down and write two letters!" Gangrel didn't really hope that his wife would laugh, but he thought it would at least make her less frustrated. He slowly frowned as he realized his hopes were in vain.

"What the hell does that have to do with having all these men move one painting?! Are you going senile on me?!"

"I'm not senile! I'm making a point. Plegia didn't have any royal treasures like Ylisse or Chon'sin, because any Plegian King or Queen that was still alive when they left the throne would just take everything of value in the palace. Treasures weren't passed down, but this painting was an exception. It was painted after the Siege of Viipurias, during Caracalla's Crusade. It's considered to be a symbol of national pride. It was in Castle Plegia when I was King, and I had it brought here when I became Emperor. I can't let Aversa take it. I just can't."

"Who cares?! Just have a new one painted! Maybe a smaller one that doesn't take up so much of my wall!"

Gangrel calmed himself. He found his anger washed away by the emotions the painting brought up, and in a desperate attempt to get any other kind of reaction from his wife, he decided to genuinely share these emotions. "This painting is about half a century old. It's considered to be a symbol of Plegian pride. It's priceless, but beyond that… it means a lot to me."

"Why?!"

"Because I was there." Gangrel looked over the painting as the workers struggled with it. It depicted Plegian and Ylissean soldiers locked in combat on a city wall. A burning city could be seen in the background. "When I was a child, my mother and I had very little. She made a living as a street performer, playing her violin for spare change. She could have begged. She could have done manual labor. She might have made more doing that." Gangrel gave a small smile. "But she had her pride. We constantly moved from city to city, always staying in the slums. We just happened to be in the city of Viipurias when the Ylisseans came. You see, I was growing up during the height of Exalt Caracalla's crusade against Plegia. The Ylissean army, motivated by their belief in their righteousness, their belief that they had to punish the heretics, penetrated deep into Plegia. Viipurias was a port city on the southern coast, and the Ylisseans stretched their lines thin to take it. They fought their way into the city, but the Plegian commander saw an opportunity. As the Ylisseans advanced and took more and more of the city, the Plegian forces surrounded them, creating an awkward situation where the Ylisseans were besieged in a city that wasn't theirs. The citizens were caught in the middle." Gangrel was struggling to suppress the powerful emotions he found himself dealing with now, but he continued his story. He was too far into it now, and he had to finish it. He no longer even cared about calming his wife. The story just had to be finished for its own sake. "My mother took advantage of the situation. She played patriotic songs by Plegian composers on her violin, and it made her something of a local attraction in the slums. She made a lot more money that way, but I also suspect that pride of hers was involved. To the Plegians she was a symbol of hope, but to the Ylisseans she was a symbol of defiance. They grew to hate her." Gangrel's gaze fell to the ground. "One night a Ylissean soldier, drunk on stolen wine, wandered past her as she was tuning her violin. In a fit of primitive, bestial rage, he cut her down… right in front of me. Even now… her music still haunts me to my very soul." Gangrel shivered. "I didn't have anything to remember her by, but I saw this painting when I became the King of Plegia. It was commissioned by the government after the Plegian forces finally prevailed in that battle. The previous King had miraculously chosen not to steal it, and so it had become like a royal treasure. Validar didn't get rid of it when he succeeded me, and it was still there when I returned to Castle Plegia. It's become a symbol of my people… but more than that, it reminds me of my mother. Of her final days in that city. It's become something for me to remember her by." Gangrel slowly looked down to his spouse, who had actually been moved by his words. "So you'll forgive me, my darling wife, if I am reluctant to part with it."

"I… I didn't know."

Gangrel's attendant cleared his throat. He'd apparently been behind his Emperor the entire time, listening to the entire story. As always, he was apathetic and professional. "The High Inquisitor has finally arrived at the palace, milord. She'll be entering the room shortly."

Gangrel shivered again, this time in an attempt to contain his frustration at Aversa's visit. "Of course it doesn't matter. Aversa will just take it from me. She was my advisor when I was King of Plegia. She knows about the painting, and she knows how much I like it. She'll take it just because she knows I want it." Gangrel straightened his posture and held his head high as he approached the door to the throne room. "Let's get this over with."

Gangrel and his wife stood by the throne as the doors were thrown open. Two armed and armored men had opened them for Aversa, and two dozen more followed after her as she strolled towards the throne. Her children followed after them. Gangrel's palace guards knelt before the High Inquisitor, but they quickly rose to their feet after she passed by. Her guards didn't receive the same acknowledgment from them, and some seemed to glare in response. Aversa paused several meters away from the throne and gave a smug look as her men took positions by Gangrel's own guards. Gangrel didn't recognize Aversa's soldiers, but it wasn't unlike her to create new organizations. Aversa's soldiers were all male, and they all had at least a half meter on her. Their armor was an eerie purple, a color representing both Plegia and the Grimleal, with bright golden trimmings. Their weapons included swords, shields, spears, maces, grenades, pistols, carbines, bows, and tomes, and no two soldiers had the same weapons. However, their movements were coordinated and regimented, showing that the soldiers were highly disciplined. Each soldier covered their face with a metal mask modeled after a human face, but bright purple light cascaded out of the eyes. Each mask was also in a unique expression. Gangrel wasn't easily intimidated, but he was certainly less than comfortable at their presence. Aversa patiently waited for her soldiers to form up. She then walked over to the one standing closest to Gangrel and began to caress his arm. Gangrel was disturbed by how intimate it was. Though hard to tell through the mask, the man was likely only a third of her age. "Ah, Gangrel. How long has it been? Oh, that's right. I was last called here by the Fell Dragon when it reprimanded the two of us for _your_ failures."

"To what do I owe the pleasure, witch?"

Aversa seemingly ignored Gangrel and casually walked behind him until she neared the painting. The workers stopped trying to move it and stood up straight at the sight of her. Aversa smiled, knowing that seizing Gangrel's treasured painting was more than enough of a retort. "I remember this. It's from our days in Castle Plegia. Before Chrom kicked your teeth in? Remember?" Aversa turned to the workers. "Why don't you handsome men take that to one of my carriages outside. I think I'll take that with me."

Gangrel snarled, but tried not to outwardly show any signs of anger. "Black Authority is meant to give you the resources you need to carry out the Fell Dragon's tasks. What does that have to do with a painting?!"

"Gangrel, sweetie, surely you have come to suspect what I have long since realized. The Fell Dragon doesn't care what we do. So long as we carry out its will. I can take whatever I want from you."

"We're partners!"

"Were partners. I needed your help once, but surely you don't think the two of us are equal now. Your a puppet emperor. Don't get caught up in your strings, love, or I may have to cut you loose." Aversa walked up to Gangrel, taking long, slow steps. Her voice became quieter as she neared him, and somehow this made it more menacing. "Your soldiers are little more than idiotic sadists and conscripts. My Inquisitors are disciplined and loyal. I need only snap my fingers, and my agents would have yours dead." Aversa was right next to Gangel now. With a smug smile, she spoke so closely that she was almost whispering in his ear. "I will have every institution of the Grimleal under my control. If the imperial throne will not fall in line, then I will have it eliminated entirely."

"You have no right to do that." Gangrel briefly lost his composure and shot a look of fury at Aversa. She only smiled wider in response. "This pursuit of power for its own sake will be your undoing, woman."

"Mmm. I'm sure it will be, sweetie." Aversa said with a less than genuine voice. "I'm sure it will. Now, my forces are exercising Black Authority all over this continent. Even as we speak my agents are appropriating military equipment and personnel from your forces."

"You've taken more than just military crap!" Gangrel's wife shot. "You're taking anything you please!"

"Aw. Look at the little Empress. She's trying to play adult." Gangrel's wife tried to respond, but Aversa just turned back to Gangrel and ignored her. "Now my forces are fully willing to retaliate, with lethal force if necessary, if your forces try to stop them. However, I need to make sure you're not organizing any kind of coordinated resistance."

"Do you really think I'd instigate a civil war?"

"Now now, Emperor, I didn't become so powerful by just letting my rivals have chances to stop me. I've lived this long by ensuring there isn't even the slightest possibility that they could stop me." Aversa stepped down from the raised platform the throne was on and walked over to the closest of her soldiers. "Speaking of the superiority of my personnel, I'd like to introduce you to my men here." Aversa continued to speak while removing the soldier's sculpted mask. Gangrel noticed that it wasn't the mask that was causing the soldier's eyes to glow. Something inhuman had been done to them. Aversa gently caressed the man's cheek as she spoke. He didn't react positively or negatively to it. He just stood there. "These men are hand picked based on a number of attributes. Strength. Intelligence. Discipline. Heh…" Aversa blushed slightly. " _Stamina_."

"You, you have relations with men under your authority? That's barbaric!"

"Oh don't give me that. I tried the conventional married life. All it got me was heartache and-" Aversa glanced over to her children. Servillia and Fulvia were standing tall, but Thallius was preoccupied with picking his nose. Following the successful retrieval of a booger, Thallius proceeded to wipe it on the armor of a royal guard, knowing full well that they wouldn't do a thing about it. Aversa recoiled at the sight. "Parasitic children. Besides all of that, there was one other attribute all these men were chosen for. Their hatred of you."

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, slavery. Always by the side of human civilization. Sometimes endorsed by governments. Sometimes only existing in the dark. It's as old as civilization itself though." Aversa placed the soldier's mask back on his face and turned to Gangrel. "I know it's stronger than ever under you. I know how much money it generates for your Lord Lieutenants."

"I have not legalized any kind of slave trade!"

"No. You just allow your landlords to make their own laws, and you give them a lot of free reign so long as they keep supplying tribute and follow your commands. You may have ignored the suffering in your territory, but I haven't. You see, Gangrel, these men were all former slaves. I took them in. Gave them the opportunity to serve me. They are indebted to me for their very freedom. That's what I call them, by the way. The Indebted. Catchy huh? They all blame you for their bondage, and they could all squeeze the life out of you without a second thought. That's why I think they're perfect for representing my interests in the imperial court."

"And what does that mean?"

Again Aversa answered Gangrel's question by interacting with someone else. She looked over Gangrel's palace guards, who continued to stand perfectly still. "Guards. You're relieved from your service to the Emperor." As if reacting to a cue, Aversa's Indebted stepped forward and threatened the guards. "My forces will take over. You are to turn in your armor and weapons, and report for reassignment."

The Indebted began to forcibly strip the guards of their equipment. The seized their spears and swords, and even took off larger pieces of the plate armor. Gangrel witnessed two Indebted take the helmet off a guard, revealing the incensed face of the woman underneath in the process, only to then turn on each other and grapple for it. The guards were infuriated and confused, but they couldn't disobey a direct order from the High Inquisitor, and the Indebted didn't give them much time to think or respond properly. Instead the men and women desperately turned to their Emperor, but it was several precious seconds before Gangrel finally brought himself to object. "This is unacceptable! The palace guard are loyal only to me! They're not part of the larger Grimleal! You have no right!"

"You'd be a lot better at this if you could take advantage of loopholes as I do. The palace guard as an organization is yours, but each individual soldier is part of the Grimleal. I can appropriate them under Black Authority so long as I replace them, and that, love, is what the Indebted are for. Isn't it beautiful? These men all suffered under the slave trade you turned a blind eye to, and now you have to rely on them for your personal security." Aversa gave a small laugh. "They'll let me know if you forget your place, and they'll happily put you back in it."

"You can't replace my guards with spies!"

"What are you going to do? Complain to the Fell Dragon? Do you really think it cares? Do you really want to admit your own weakness to it? Oh save your breath, sweetie. There's something far more important to this visit than this…" Aversa waved her hand around, trying to find the right words to say. "Exchange of hats." Aversa nodded towards the door, and Gangrel nervously looked to see who else Aversa had brought to violate his palace. A large, robed man slowly walked in. Aversa's children tensed up as he brushed past them, and Gangrel could see his unnerving smile from across the room. "Allow me to introduce the General Secretary of the Political Bureau in High Point. I don't think you've personally met, but I'm sure you know of him." Aversa smiled to herself as the man stepped into view, knowing that Gangrel would be even more annoyed than he already was. "This man will keep an eye on you, and he'll report back to me if you resist my agents. Isn't that right, Excellus."

Gangrel finally lost it. "WHAT?!"

Excellus stepped forward, holding his hand by his sinister smile. Excellus' robes were far more decadent and elaborate than they had been thirty years prior, and he was considerably more corpulent. His unsettling smile hadn't changed much though, and his mannerisms were different only in that they were more exaggerated. Excellus had done well in the new regime, and it had only fed his narcissism. "Eee hee hee! So this is where Chrom and his family used to live. It's got that Ylissean arrogance. I remember it in Chrom, sticking his chin up in the air as he cut his way through Valm. I can see it runs in the family." Excellus walked back and forth, admiring Gangrel's throne room while also getting closer and closer to him and his wife. "I recall Pheros once talking about her pilgrimage to Ylisse. I've decided to take a tour of my own, you see, and I have to say I'm not impressed. These Ylisseans deserve each other." Excellus suddenly turned around. "But oh my **_GODS_** , the food! Such _decadence_! Take the Casu Marzu. It's cheese with live larvae in it! It's still _writhing_ around as it slides down your throat! Or take the lobster. That strange, insect like creature that dwells on the bottom of the ocean. The Ylisseans eat them! They keep them alive until they're ordered to ensure that they're as fresh as possible. Then they place it in boiling water as it's still moving! Or take my personal favorite, the Ortolan. That delicate little songbird. They prepare it by plucking out its eyes. This artificial night causes the bird to gorge itself until it's as fat as possible. Then they take it and _drown_ it in brandy, which kills and marinates it. Then you eat it whole. It's… _ingenious_. I've never seen food like this. I think it's the _cruelty_ that really makes it."

Gangrel's wife stepped closer to her husband. "I don't like this man. Make him leave!"

"I… I can't."

"No, my dear Empress." Excellus said in a sly tone as he neared the throne. He eagerly ran his hand over it, an act that caused both Gangrel and his wife to feel disgust towards it. "I'll be here for some time. I will be watching your husband very closely. If he messes up, then there might have to be some changes. Maybe they'll call me Empress."

"Of course a slippery maggot like you would survive everything that's happened to the world." Gangrel shot back. "Or, rather, should I compare you to a rat, given how you'll go scurrying off to that witch if I so much as breathe."

"Well that's the thing. Rats do have a tendency to, hee hee, _survive_."

Excellus walked behind the throne and continued to admire the treasures contained within the palace. Gangrel felt uncomfortable with Excellus behind him, but Aversa forced him to interact with her again. "Excellus and my Indebted will be staying here for the foreseeable future, and I'll have agents working within your palace. Be a good little Emperor, and you'll be able to keep this pathetic setup. But try anything against me, and your adorable little baby girl will grow up on the streets. Just like her father."

"We built this government together! You need me."

"Oh I do need a figurehead, but it doesn't have to be you. The two of us do just keep running into each other, but I assure you, I was always in control. I kept your reign afloat. I cast the illusion spell on Chrom. I convinced Validar to let you into the Grimleal. I finished the resurrection after we overthrew Validar. It may seem like I'm mistreating you at your moment of weakness but, baby, the game was rigged from the start. If you can't do what you're told…" Aversa looked over to Excellus. "Then I'll find someone who will."

"This isn't over."

"Oh I know that you think that." With that, Aversa turned and started to leave the throne room. She stopped at her three children. Servillia and Fulvia nodded respectfully, and Aversa gave them a quick kiss on the cheek. Thallius rolled his eyes, and Aversa briefly glared at him before giving him a quick slap upside the head.

"OW! Mom!"

"Now you three carry out the tasks I gave you. Let me know if you need anything, and let Excellus know if Gangrel does anything to stop you."

"Of course, mother." Servillia and Fulvia answered at the same time.

"Yeah sure. Whatever. Bye!" Thallius groaned.

Aversa repressed her frustration at her son, remembering that this was her time of triumph, and walked out of the palace. The Faraskjótr teleported her away an instant later.

As soon as he could, Gangrel stormed over to an Indebted. "I don't know exactly what she told you, but I'm not going to just let you-" The Indebted didn't let him finish the sentence. He put his hand on Gangrel's shoulder and used his strength to force the Emperor to his knees. When Gangrel tried to rise to his feet, he simply did it again. Gangrel looked up at the sound of laughing to see Thallius walking over.

"Ha!" Thallius made a cupping gesture. "She's got you like this, pal!"

Gangrel's wife became incensed, though she still kept her distance from the Indebted. "How dare you speak to him like that!"

Thallius just shrugged and walked forward. "Relax, baby." To her significant shock, he slapped the Empress on the rear. "You worry too much. Now where do you two keep the booze?"

Just minutes earlier, Thallius' actions would have gotten him a severe beating from the guards. Gangrel's wife was too apprehensive of the Indebted to call them, however. Instead she turned to her husband, but Gangrel could do nothing to stop Thallius, nor could he stop the workers from taking the painting he'd looked at earlier out of the palace. He couldn't even stand up. "Witch." Gangrel muttered under his breath. "This isn't over."

* * *

Later that night, Servillia, Fulvia, and Thallius lounged around in a room they'd temporarily set themselves up in. Aversa's daughters tried to keep to themselves, but their brother was disturbing the quiet. Thallius, who wasn't entirely sober, was splayed out over a couch talking to a partially empty bottle of whiskey about his age. He didn't appear to notice his older sisters glaring at him. "Oh I'm sorry. Am I bothering you? It's just that I'm so excited. I must have forgotten my manners."

"Well I can see how the trip must be new to you." Fulvia responded. "But please try to keep it down, okay? We're trying to read."

Thallius rolled his eyes. "I was talking to the bottle." He nuzzled his whiskey and bit his lip as he talked to it. "Would you be interested in bringing a friend over? Then we could really have a party. Oh no, shh. Don't be nervous. I'll be gentle."

Servillia ran her hand down her face. "Ugh, my gods. Teenagers shouldn't be allowed to drink. That's it! I'm getting rid of him."

"Be nice to him, Servillia." Fulvia stated as her sister walked over to the couch. Servillia ignored her.

"GET UP, THALLIUS!" Servillia shouted in his ear while shaking him. Thallius was too inebriated to even notice her approaching, and so panicked at his sister's perceived teleporting abilities.

"AH! Wh-what? What?!"

"Mother didn't bring you here to get three sheets to the wind. Now get started on the tasks she left for you! You're bugging us!"

"Three sheets… what?!"

"Buzzed? Smashed? Well done? Tipsy?"

Thallius just squinted at her. "What?!"

"Drunk, Thallius! You're drunk."

"Pssh! Am n-not!"

"Oh yeah? Let me ask you something. If you let go of that couch, will you fall off the Earth?"

Thallius stared into space for a few seconds before looking down to the couch. "I-is that possible?!"

"Thank you for proving my point."

"Whatever! I shouldn't have to take this from you suck ups!"

"Don't you get it, Thallius? The two of us say what mother wants to hear, and she showers us with power and wealth. She only barely tolerates you. One of these days she'll have you posted out in the sticks, and she'll visit you once every five years. By the way, we're not sharing our inheritances with you when she goes."

"Y'all trying to be funny! Huh? That it? Trying to be funny over there?!"

"We shouldn't have to suffer for your incompetence, Thallius. We need to get some work done. Why don't you just take that overpriced bottle of yours and find an underpriced whore to share it with."

Thallius stood up and adjusted his collar. "You know what? I think I will!"

Thallius stormed out of the room, and Servillia returned to the table smiling. "Remember when he was cute and easy to push around? Oh well. At least I got him to leave."

"D-did you just tell our sixteen year old brother to find a w-woman of loose virtue?!"

"Who cares. He'll probably just stumble around harassing mother's guards until he gets knocked square in the jaw, then he'll go to sleep right there." Servillia opened her book. "And we won't have to deal with him again until morning."

"You're impossible!"

For a time the twin sisters were able to focus on their duties, but Fulvia became increasingly worried for her brother, and eventually left to check on him. Her search led her throughout the palace, and she eventually found Thallius in an underground chamber. The same chamber where Kryczek and Adrasteia had once built the Reaver Program. Fulvia noticed that Gangrel had likely evacuated the contents of the chamber, as it didn't seem to be normally this empty. Thallius was peeking into a room from the doorway, and he put his finger over his mouth to implore his sister to be silent as she approached. "Shh!"

Fulvia stood by her brother. Despite being male, Thallius was much shorter than his sisters and mother, and Fulvia was able to crane over him and look through the doorway without needing Thallius to move. In the room, Excellus was holding a conversation with ten figures. The individuals were using farakveða tomes, but they had been modified. Sound came through clearly, but the holograms were staticky. "They're trying to hide their identities." Fulvia whispered. Thallius nodded.

"So the Indebted have replaced Gangrel's guards, and you've been sent to the palace?" A woman's voice asked.

"Hee, hee! Surely you should know by now, Metal Sphere, that I have a way of squirming into places." Excellus replied.

"I know that voice!" Fulvia said as she nudged Thallius. "That's Thomas! One of our mother's most trusted Inquisitors. Metal Sphere? That must be a codename. They don't want people to know about this meeting."

"Достаточно с этим тщеславием!" Another of the distorted holograms spat. "Just answer the question!"

"Ah, I see Seraph Squad Six is represented by S. I always preferred Y."

"Well Y isn't here, fatass."

"Please, Hangman." Another of the voices said. Fulvia also recognized this voice as belonging to Ascension. "Just answer the question."

"Yes. Aversa has stationed me in Ylisstol to spy on Gangrel."

"And she doesn't know about our real plans?" "Metal Sphere" asked.

"What Aversa doesn't know won't hurt her."

Thallius looked up to his sister. "Am I drunk, or are they plotting against our mother? I mean I am hammered, I see that now, but are they plotting against mother?!"

An eleventh figure materialized, and every other figure gave a quick bow. "Zoe." They all said at the same time.

"Report. Who am I speaking to?" Zoe responded.

"Superfly, reporting." One of the figures answered. Every other figure also answered in turn.

"Death Rave, reporting."

"Ricochet, reporting."

"Razorback, reporting."

"Tallman, reporting." Fulvia recognized this as Ascension.

"Metal Sphere, reporting." Fulvia recognized this as Thomas.

"Stalker, reporting."

"Max and Goose, reporting."

"Seraph Squad Six, reporting."

"D. Cowboy, reporting."

"Hangman, reporting." Excellus himself replied.

"Excellent. Now before we continue, the door behind you isn't closed, Hangman."

Excellus turned around. "Aw you've got to be kidding me!" Seraph Squad Six yelled. "You worthless fat jiggling butterball!"

"I'm sure there's no one there." Excellus walked towards the door and looked out, but Thallius and Fulvia had managed to slip away. Excellus looked around for several seconds before closing the door.


	38. The Chaos Theory

Severely injured by the Deadlords, and without Cherche or the third gens to calm her down, Minerva flew around in circles for hours in a state of perpetual panic. Gaius was sitting closest to the front, and he tried everything he could, but the wyvern wouldn't listen to him. Tired and in shock from everything he'd just endured, Chrom drifted in and out of consciousness. When he realized this, he slowly and carefully handed the increasingly cool and lifeless body of his grandniece he'd kept cradled in his arms to her grandfather sitting behind him. Henry took it and held it in the same manner. There was a moment of grim silence between the two men, neither able to yet process everything that had occured. They could only stare at Ophelia's corpse for a few seconds, blank expressions on their faces, as the trauma had short circuited them. Chrom at least managed a small smile, content that at least Ophelia couldn't slip out of his arms now, and promptly allowed himself to pass out from the stress.

He didn't wake up until morning. Henry was knelt nearby, aimlessly staring at his granddaughter's remains. Even hours later, he still didn't seem to know how to react to everything. Gaius was pacing back and forth in the distance. An expression of rage was made clear for all to see, but his face was also tear stained. Minerva was nearby, curled up into the wyvern equivalent of a fetal position and audibly moping. Chrom stood up and immediately felt a sharp pain in his back. His allies hadn't done anything to help him besides taking him off Minerva and setting him on the ground. In the wake of everything that had happened, he couldn't blame them. The pain in his back was a triviality relative to how the three former Shepherds felt. Chrom didn't know what else to do, so he sat by Henry and looked down at Ophelia again. With his mind rested and fresh, the raw emotions Chrom was struggling to process came flooding over him, and the battle hardened man broke down in tears on the spot. Chrom tried to suppress it, but it was overwhelming. It was like a floodgate had opened, and the feelings fonly got more and more severe until Chrom felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Gaius by his side, and the smallest bit of peace came back to him.

"I'm… sorry, Blue. Junior. I'm so sorry."

It was over a minute before Chrom could calm down enough to speak. It might've taken him ten if he was by himself, but Gaius' presence truly brought some semblance of serenity to his tormented mind. The two men had come a long way since seeing each other again at Cordelia's homestead. "You have nothing to apologize for." Chrom managed to say quietly.

Gaius knelt down. He didn't seem to react to the sight of Ophelia, but his red, irritated eyes suggested that he'd hardly been apathetic to her death. In fact, getting a better look at them, Chrom realized that Henry and Gaius likely hadn't slept that night at all. "Oh gods. Blondie. She… she was supposed to be a symbol of everything the future could still be. After what happened thirty years ago, I thought it was all broken. Then she and the others come out of nowhere. Show us that there can always be new heroes. Like a sign that the gods still care about us. Like Lucina and our children thirty years ago, except they came to an even worse world. They were supposed to be a sign that things could get better. Why… why did she die?" Gaius stood up, shaking with frustration. "And why do the broken old men still live? Why did we have to see this? Why did we have to see three generations put in the ground?! Parents… parents are supposed to give their children better lives. They're not supposed to see the younger generations die off. They're… we're not supposed to survive when they die. We're not supposed to have to SEE THIS!" Gaius took his arquebus, which he normally took very delicate care of, and hurled it to the ground. " _ **DAMN IT**_! This whole world is… is… boinked! I don't even have a word for how screwed up the world is! When I was young, I thought it was because of rich people like you! They hoarded all the wealth and lived easy lives while the rest of us had nothing! Now I know that was just a fantasy! The world is screwed up at every level! Even reality itself is screwed up! Deadlords reincarnated from our own children and sent after us?! Why is that possible?! Why does Grima exist?! Why does Naga exist?! Why does she try to protect humanity only to fail when a god of evil attacks?! It's like we exist just to have things taken from us! I… I never thought I'd get married when I joined the Shepherds. Have a kid. I never thought about that stuff… but when it happened? I never thought it'd be taken from me. I never thought it'd be taken from you." Gaius looked down to Chrom. "I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

"It's… it's not fair. Is it?" Chrom looked down. "Lucina. Brady. Maribelle. Lissa. Emmeryn. My mother and father. Vaike. Frederick. R-Robin. Cordelia. Ophelia. Everyone. They're gone, but I survive. Me. The man that took everything from them. I failed them. I failed my people. Everyone I have ever loved is gone. My country is gone, and I am left the Exalt of nothing. I was supposed to protect Ylisse, but I failed my people. But I survive. Life clings to me like a sickness. A gods… damned… PARASITIC INFECTION!" Chrom rose to his feet and met Gaius' eyes. "I… I don't want to do this anymore."

"I know how you mean."

"No! No I _can't_ do this anymore!" Chrom felt a sudden urge to draw his Falchion. It was a strange feeling. The reasonable part of him tried to tell him not to, but an uncontrollable urge yearned for it. "I… I don't want to live anymore."

"W-what?!"

"I've thought about it. You know? Just… ending it."

"No… n-no. No you don't, you don't mean that!"

"Why… why not?"

The calm in Chrom's voice alarmed Gaius, and he tensed up. "No! You can't be serious!"

"Why not?"

"You… don't talk like this! Because-" Gaius himself started to panic, desperately searching for the words he needed. "Because… because people still need you!"

"Who?" Chrom glanced back, his tears returning. "Not her. Not anymore."

"Me!" Chrom turned back, and Gaius couldn't look him in the eye anymore. "Ah… I… I need you. Chrom I… I don't have anyone else. I turned away from the world for so long, but then we became friends again. We're together again. And, and Henry's here. I got to see Donnel again. I got to see Cordelia again. I met the third gens. I… I can't be alone again. Don't do that to me. I can't lose you too." Gaius gave Chrom a determined look. "And I'm sure as hell not going to let you do that to your damn self. Now put the sword down. Please. _Please_."

Chrom just stared at the Falchion for several seconds before he finally brought himself to put it down. Chrom broke down crying after that. For a second Gaius just looked at him but, without another word, the two men that originally couldn't be further apart embraced each other. Chrom fought hard to suppress it, but he could do little but bawl into Gaius' shoulder for a time. Gaius was patient with him, rocking his old friend and occasionally patting him on the back in a reassuring manner. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

"Ssh. Blue. It's alright."

"Men shouldn't cry like this. I-I don't mean to do this in front of you-"

"Hey come on. Don't beat yourself up in any way. Just… just do what you need to do."

"Oh gods. Not her. Anyone but her… or Soleil, or Caeldori. Anyone but them."

"I know, Blue. I know." Chrom eventually steadied himself. He looked Gaius in the eye and gave an expression that told him he would be stoic now, but it also seemed to silently thank him for being there. Gaius just smiled back, but it faded slightly as he glanced over Chrom's shoulder to see Henry. "Anything to add, Junior? Anything?! Granddaughter just died! Anything to add to that?" Henry didn't say anything. He just shook his head. "Do you even care, Junior? Do you even care?!"

"Gaius!" Chrom pleaded. "Henry's just dealing with it in his own way. Has he said anything since we got here?"

Gaius looked at Henry, his expression more understanding. Henry didn't even look up. He just sat there and stared at his granddaughter's corpse, almost as still as she was. "No. He hasn't."

"I'm sure he loved her. Let's just… we just need to give him time."

"Yeah. Henry always was a little strange." Chrom and Gaius turned in a panic to see Algol approaching. "I always liked him though. He helped me make my Risen stronger, and he never went to Keith or Archangel whenever I accidentally lost control of them."

Chrom and Gaius looked over to see that Cervantes, Farber, and Pheros were also approaching. Gaius picked up his arquebus and pointed it at Pheros as she neared them. "Get back! I'll kill you if you get any closer! Not now! Damn it, I don't want to have to deal with you now of all times!"

"Do you really think you can take all four of us?" Pheros responded calmly. "Even if you kill me, you'll be overwhelmed."

"How did you even find us?!"

"Your wyvern just flew around in circles. You weren't hard to track."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Gaius took careful aim. His arquebus wasn't actually loaded, but he had it pointed right at Pheros' head to intimidate her. She didn't show any trace of fear. "Can't you see we've lost enough?!"

"We're not here to fight you."

Chrom readied his Falchion. "Why should we trust you?!"

Gaius stepped closer to Pheros. "We saw what you did! You tortured him, and now you're saying you just want to talk?!"

"You have no reason to trust us. I'm not asking for your trust. We just want to talk. Consider this a show of our goodwill. Farber, release the boy."

"What boy?!"

Farber turned and nodded to something behind him, and a teenaged boy walked into view. He was about fourteen years old, with faded blonde hair. His clothes were scorched, and his skin had discolorations from burn wounds treated by nothing but healing staff. Chrom and Gaius looked at him in shock. "Paul!" Chrom cried out.

"We returned to the house after we were sure that Grimleal Inquisitor was gone. Paul was badly burned, but he could be saved. The rest of his family… didn't make it."

Chrom ran up to him, and Paul started walking forward. "Oh gods, I'm so glad you're okay! They're not hurting you are they?!"

Kjelle's half brother didn't respond to Chrom's compassion. He just ran up to him and struck him in the stomach, sending him to his knees. "Shut up! You got my family killed! They died because you was there!"

Chrom looked up to Paul. He wasn't angry or afraid. There was only sadness as his guilt returned to him. "P-Paul."

"Y'all should've left us alone. My family would still be around if you people never came to see us. STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"Paul!" Gaius called out in annoyance. Paul ignored him and returned to the Arch Surg officers. Cervantes smiled and patted the tortured boy on the back as he passed.

"Ah ha! Good one, my boy. We'll make an Arch Surg out of you yet."

Chrom got up, clutching his stomach and shooting Cervantes a bitter glare. "If you do anything to hurt him-"

"If we do anything?" Pheros retorted. "We saved him. We're giving him medical attention. Food. A place to stay. The way I see it, you're the ones that brought this ruin upon him."

"You're the one who burned down his house!" Gaius spat.

"I was trying to save my own life. We all have a right to sovereignty, and I had to save myself from being incinerated. I had no control over where the spell would end up. Ultimate responsibility lies with the Inquisitor that attacked. Speaking of which." Pheros stepped closer again, and Gaius again took aim at her head. "We're taking care of Paul to show you that we mean no harm."

"What do you want, crazy lady?!" Gaius pulled back the hammer. "No more games."

Pheros took a deep breath and nodded. "Chrom… Archangel wants to bring you in. The Arch Surg will never stop hunting for you. Ever. Not until you come with us."

"I've hidden from the Grimleal long enough." Chrom responded defiantly. "I'll take my chances."

"We both know it's too late for that. You were able to hide from the Grimleal for so long, but it all changed when you went with Ophelia. In a short amount of time you've encountered several of their best agents, and it'll only get worse. You can't just go back to hiding. We… we could protect you."

Gaius shook his head in disbelief. "You four tortured him, and now you're saying we'll be safe with you?!"

"Yes. I see how paradoxical that may seem." Pheros looked at her feet and spoke more quietly. "Chrom… the four of us had very personal reasons to go after you. We thought we were getting revenge for all the crimes you committed in the past… but then the Grimleal came. It reminded us of what's really important. Fighting the Grimleal is what matters, and we shouldn't be wasting time fighting each other. Chrom… I promise you that Archangel doesn't want you as a prisoner. She wants you as an ally. She wants you to help us. We…" Pheros wrestled with herself, as if a part of her disagreed with what she was about to say. She swallowed her pride and continued. "We need you. You don't deserve the abuse you've suffered from Keith. He's a paranoid, violent excuse for a man. It was wrong of him to try and capture you just because you didn't immediately go with him. And… it was wrong of us to… exact our vengeance. We need to focus on the Grimleal."

"So you still hate him?" Gaius asked in an accusatory tone.

"You destroyed Walhart's Empire! Of course I still…" Pheros bit her tongue again. "That doesn't matter now. We want to bring you to Archangel, but to prove that we're different from Keith, we won't force you. We're giving you a choice. If you say no, we won't make you go. That'll be the end of it."

"No." Gaius said bluntly. "Alright, Chrom. That's the end of that. Let's get some breakfast."

"Please consider your options." Pheros responded, unfazed. "That battle at the homestead reminded the four of us of what's really important. We don't want to be enemies anymore. We need to work together against the Grimleal. However, we cannot control the entirety of the Archanean Liberation Front. If we return without you, then they'll send soldiers with no compunction about hurting you. Archangel wants to see you, Chrom. She gets what she wants."

"So you're the lesser of two evils?"

"More than that. Surely you have nowhere to go now. We can shelter you. We have safehouses in The Saltworks. We can give you food and a place to stay, and we can assure you that the Grimleal won't find you. We can also take care of Paul. Make sure he stays safe. Give him the help he needs in this difficult time. It's what your friend would have wanted." Pheros glanced over to Ophelia's corpse. "And… we can take care of that body. Give her a proper burial. All of that… but you have to work with us."

"We don't believe you! We don't believe any of that! You tortured him!"

"That's understandable. That's why I'll prove that I mean no harm." Pheros stepped forward. Gaius continued to have his arquebus trained on her, but Pheros stopped and drew her short sword. She then tossed it to the ground. "I surrender myself to you."

"Huh?!"

"I want to show Chrom something."

"What?!"

"Gaius… let's discuss this in private." Reluctantly, Gaius allowed Pheros to approach until the two were very close. Pheros spoke quietly, so that Chrom couldn't hear. A look of surprise enveloped Gaius.

"You want to take him there?!"

"I think he should see it. Don't you?"

"Maybe. But… why do you want him to see it?"

"It connects to Archangel. He'll want to see her afterwards."

"It'll take over a day to get there."

"I'll pay for it. I'll pay for transportation. Food. We can stay at an inn. I'll cover it all, and I'll be entirely at your mercy. Farber, Cervantes, and Algol will stay here."

"You would do that? Why?"

"Because I want you to believe me when I say that the Archanean Liberation Front wants you as allies. I want you to understand that we won't capture you. We'll only take you to Archangel if you agree. The entire time, I'll be unarmed and by myself. Surely you three men could dispatch me with ease if I tried anything? You won't have any reason to be mindful of me." Pheros look directly at Chrom. "We'll also take care of Paul and Ophelia's body. Only if you agree though. Say no and we'll leave you to your own devices."

Chrom returned a bitter glare. "You should do those things because it's the right thing to do."

"And lose our bargaining chip?"

It was clear to Chrom that Pheros didn't really care about any of them. She did appear to feel guilty about attacking Chrom before the Grimleal came, but she couldn't care less if Paul was abandoned or if Ophelia's body was left to bloat in the hot sun. At the same time, he couldn't help but respect her cleverness. Going with Chrom, Gaius, and Henry alone and unarmed did show that she was serious about trying to make peace, but she also knew she was likely in no real danger. They wouldn't try anything against her if it meant that Farber, Cervantes, and Algol would ignore Paul and Ophelia in response. "So what exactly do you want us to do?"

"Just come with me. We're taking a short trip. It'll only take about two days to get there and return. Where else do you have to go?"

Chrom turned to Gaius, who wasn't protesting. "Where are we going?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this… but I agree with Pheros. Chrom… I think you should see this."

"What is it though?"

"I think it's better if you see for yourself."

"Gaius… I'm trusting you on this."

Gaius nodded. "We shouldn't have anything to be afraid of if it's just Pheros, and she's right. Ophelia's body would just deteriorate with us. They can give her a real burial."

"R-right." Chrom looked over to see Cervantes, Farber, and Algol approaching. Paul remained where they had been, glaring at him. Chrom looked away, unable to meet his gaze. He turned to Henry and made it clear that he was going to move Ophelia's body. Henry looked at her for a long time before finally nodding, and Chrom gently moved her. Algol was waiting to take the corpse, and several seconds went by before Chrom could will himself to give it to him. "I know you have no love for any of us, but take good care of her. Please."

"Yeah. Sure."

"A-and don't bury her!"

"Huh?"

"Not, not until we get back. Please. I have to be there for it. Just do what you can to keep her intact."

"Alright. Well chuck her in a closet somewhere."

"Algol!" Pheros snapped.

"What was I supposed to say?!"

Chrom turned to Farber. "And take care of Paul. He's innocent. Please."

"Of course." Farber looked back to him. "I've been a soldier a long time, Chrom. I've seen countless refugees. Orphans. I… I understand what he's going through. We'll keep him safe. You have my word. One soldier to another."

"A-and take care of Minerva! Our wyvern!"

The three men looked at the wyvern, then turned to Pheros. Their expressions seemed to say that they wanted nothing to do with it, but Pheros silently urged them. "Alright. We can do that." Farber said.

Pheros turned back to Chrom. "Are you ready?"

Chrom turned to Gaius, who slowly nodded. He then turned to Henry. For over a minute Henry continued to stare at his granddaughter's body until Farber finally walked out of view. Only then did he turn back to Chrom. He didn't say anything. He just gave a small nod and looked down to the ground, a completely blank expression on his face. Chrom took a deep breath and looked back to Pheros. "Yes."

"Alright. Follow me."

"We will defend ourselves if you try anything."

"I wouldn't expect you not to."

Pheros took the three through the badlands. Her path seemed to be random, and Gaius snapped at her several times, but the group eventually came across strange tracks. They clearly belonged to a large four legged animal, but Chrom wasn't familiar with them. Pheros had them wait there about an hour before a caravan of Arch Surg soldiers wandered by. Chrom had never seen anything like their mounts before. They were mammals vaguely resembling horses, but considerably more alien. They were tan, furry creatures with long eyelashes, soft hooves, and large humps on their backs. One of the soldiers rode alongside Chrom and gestured for him to get on, but Chrom just stood there and stared at the animal until Pheros approached. "They're called camels, Chrom. They're from another continent. Useful for arid environments."

"Were they created by dark magic?!"

"N-no! They're just from another land." Pheros mounted the creature and spoke to the Arch Surg cameleer. "What are you current orders, soldier?"

"We're just mounting a patrol of the area."

"Change of plans. Take us to the closest inn you can find to tactical location 131. My authority."

"Y-yes, Pheros."

Cameleers rode right next to Gaius and Henry, but Gaius stepped back. "We're not getting on that thing! Right, Henry?" Henry didn't answer. He just silently climbed on, a blank expression still on his face. The camel Gaius was intended to mount grew impatient, and it began to aggressively nudge him.

"Careful, Gaius. It'll spit if you make it angry."

"That's not funny!"

"I'm not joking."

Chrom himself mounted a camel. "I guess the Arch Surg is always adapting."

"Only the strong survive, but strength isn't about power. It's about responsiveness to change."

* * *

The Arch Surg patrol took Pheros and the group to an inn. True to her word, Pheros purchased a room for everyone. Chrom initially remained wary of Pheros, but Gaius' presence reassured him. Once more Chrom was more tired than he realized, and without meaning to he fell asleep within moments of inspecting his bed. He awoke hours later. To his surprise, Pheros was seated by the bed. She had the sheet pulled back, and her hand wandered up and down Chrom's bare chest. She seemed to be inspecting the various scars he'd collected in the past few weeks, and Chrom was reminded of when he'd been taken to Nowi Falls. "Pheros?" Chrom tried to sit up. "What's going on here?!"

"I'm just inspecting you. I want to make sure you're okay." Pheros smiled to herself. "Don't worry. Gaius informed me that I'd see the contents of my skull if I tried anything."

Chrom looked down, silently hoping Pheros would realize how awkward the situation was. She didn't, or perhaps she didn't care. "I'm suddenly very aware that I'm half naked."

Pheros rolled her eyes. "Please. I'm a professional. I'm not trying to 'cop a feel' if that's what concerns you."

"I'm more worried about you plunging a knife into my heart."

"When I first saw you again at Nowi Falls, I realized I'd come face to face with the man I hated so much. I could have killed you without a second thought, but I saved your life because that was what was asked of me. Again, I'm a professional." Pheros looked over Chrom's abdomen. "You're falling apart at the seams."

"Yeah, well, I've had a hard several weeks."

"It looks like you've had a hard several decades. Granted you are still very, heh, muscular, but your aging is abnormal. You're about the same age as Gaius, and yet you look so much older. You have more gray hair. More wrinkles. Your healing isn't healthy for a middle aged man. Other than your strength, you have the body of a man in his seventies. Chrom… do you think I'm younger or older than you?"

Chrom looked at Pheros. "You do look much younger than me now, but I remember from thirty years ago that you're older than me."

"Exactly. You're becoming an old man before his time."

Chrom sank back into his bed. "I got my friends and family killed. I ruined the world. How could that not eat at me?"

Pheros gave him a sympathetic look. "It's not… it's not all your fault."

"Everyone I've ever loved is gone. It's destroying me, Pheros. I'm okay with that. I gave up on this world long ago. With Ophelia I thought… I thought things could be different… but she's gone now. To be honest I'm not sure why life still clings to me."

"Chrom, have you ever heard of chaos theory?"

"What?"

"In mathematics, chaos theory focuses on the behavior of dynamical systems that are highly sensitive to initial conditions. Within the inherent randomness of the universe, there are underlying patterns, constant feedback loops, and reliance on programming at the initial point. Sensitive dependence on initial conditions. Chaos theory helps us to understand seemingly random and unpredictable things, and it helps to show how small changes can cause increasingly complex results. A butterfly flaps its wings in Chon'sin. A hurricane strikes Plegia."

"I'm not sure that I'm following."

"Take our world. Now take an alternate timeline where the Shepherds defeated Grima. Where there had been thirty years of peace and prosperity. For all the innumerable differences that would exist between the two timelines, it would all go back to the divergence point. The Shepherds failed because Aversa and Gangrel cast that spell on you."

"You know what happened?"

"Yes. Archangel told me. Because that happened, our timeline is the way it is. All the differences between the two timelines come from that divergence point. Chrom… it isn't entirely your fault that the world is like this. Chaos theory teaches us that the differences come from that spell. That's what caused the initial conditions, and it all became more complex from there. It's your fault that they were able to cause this, but everything else was beyond your control. You don't have to blame yourself for what's happened to the entire world."

"Well I do."

Pheros nodded. "Then… maybe it's not too late to make up for it. You could find redemption in our cause. We are humanity's best chance, Chrom, and we could use allies."

"So that's what this is about. Pheros… the Archanean Liberation Front has shown me only violence and repression. You rule through fear and force. I won't trade one villain for another. I won't trade Medeus for Hardin."

"Is that so?" Pheros said bitterly.

"I've seen the Arch Surg kill innocent people!"

"Traitors to the revolution are not innocent."

"You sold Tiki to the Grimleal!"

That one briefly got to Pheros, but she brushed it off. "That is regrettable, but we needed the money from her bounty. We have to take advantage of anything that would give us an edge over the Grimleal. Sacrifices had to be made."

"You had no right to force her to make that sacrifice!"

Pheros took a deep breath. "I'm sure we could argue for hours on end about various topics, but it wouldn't be beneficial to our partnership. We will converse no further on these matters."

"Just like that?" Pheros didn't respond. She just went back to inspecting Chrom's scars. There was a bitter awkwardness to the moment, and Pheros' surprisingly gentle touch was actually ticklish. Chrom occasionally wanted to giggle, and that would have only made the tense moment even more awkward. Chrom had to say something to try and make her talk to him again. "So… I remember you were a priestess. You even went to Ylisse to hear my sister speak. Why did you join Walhart?"

"I believed in his cause."

"Didn't the violence get to you?"

"At first… but it was for a greater good."

"You talk of wanting to help humanity, but human life means little to you."

"That means nothing coming from someone born into such privilege. You were given everything you had. Your sword. Your title. Your importance. Your power. It was all inherited. You may have earned the respect of many people, but it's easy to be successful when you start successful. Walhart was born a peasant in a small village in a small, unimportant country. No one in Valmese society would have taken him seriously. He had to use force to be heard, and you dare to look down on him for fighting. You who took up the sword because you thought it would be fun. You and Walhart were dogs of war. The difference is that he fought for something besides himself."

"I fought to protect my people!"

"Did you protect them from starvation? Scarcity? Poverty? Socioeconomic inequality? No. You only fought against people that were obvious problems. People who you could kill without any moral consequence. It's easy to kill brigands. It's hard to look at society and see how unequal it was. You were a lord, Chrom. You were above other people by definition. You were reaping the rewards of a system that was built on the backs of the working people, and you dare to think that you were a hero because you killed brigands. It's ridiculous to think that the rich and privileged will ever help the working people through the goodness of their hearts. Those in power cannot connect with the people. A system built on inequality cannot help the people. The system could not be fixed. It's time to start over."

Chrom was silent for awhile, but he eventually spoke up again. Pheros expected him to be angry in response, but his tone was still calm. "You're a principled woman, Pheros." She looked at Chrom cautiously, unsure of where he was going. "You're… so different from Walhart's other generals."

"How?"

"You're so much younger. Softer."

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you implying weakness on my part?!"

"No. I'm just saying that a woman like you shouldn't be so consumed by hatred."

"Sometimes hatred is justified. Sometimes change comes because of it."

"I see you really cared about Walhart. Pheros… I'm sorry."

Pheros froze. "What?!"

"I went to war with Walhart to protect my people. I'm not sorry for that, but I see that the war ruined your life, and for that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for any responsibility I have in everything that's happened to you. You really care about helping the word. You deserve better than that."

Pheros was shocked. "N-no. You're arrogant! You're self righteous! You would never apologize to me!"

Chrom couldn't help but smile. "I guess I'm not exactly the man you think I am." Pheros didn't say anything. She just got up and walked out. Chrom pulled the sheet back and lied down. "Well this is going to be an interesting trip."


	39. The Shepherds

"Where exactly are we going?"

Chrom sat next to Pheros as their carriage made its way along a notably paved road. Most caravans moving through the badlands simply made their way through the sand and shale, occasionally following the tracks of other caravans if they hadn't yet been blown away by the wind. Wherever they were going had to be important if it actually had a paved road leading to it. Pheros stared ahead for several seconds, occasionally giving Chrom side glances to see if he was still looking at her before finally sighing and turning to him. "You'll see."

"I don't exactly trust you. I'd like to know."

"You'll want to see this for yourself. Gaius agrees, and you trust him. Don't you?"

Chrom looked to the back of the carriage Pheros had employed to transport them. Gaius was looking out over the badlands, a solemn expression on his face. "You wouldn't want to go if we told you, Blue, but I think you should see this. It's… powerful."

Chrom turned back to Pheros. "And why do you want me to see it?"

Pheros thought for a few seconds. "When Walhart was preparing for his war with Ylisse, he considered you and the Shepherds as one of his greatest threats. He studied you, and all of his generals were told your story. We noticed something about the war between Ylisse and Plegia. The Plegians were winning until Emmeryn made her sacrifice. That was the turning point. When Gangrel did what he did, you cut your way into Plegia and defeated him personally. The loss of your sister inspired you to stop defeat Gangrel. No matter what it took. I think that if you see this, you'll be inspired again."

"Why?"

"Because you'll be reminded of what you lost. Of what Gangrel has once again taken from you."

"You don't think me a hero. Now you're saying I can help the world again?"

"How I feel about you doesn't matter." Pheros and Chrom locked eyes. He could tell there was little personal sympathy for him in her eyes, but she was also genuine. "The Arch Surg still needs you. Humanity still needs you."

Chrom didn't want to speak with Pheros again, and she was happy to sit in silence, save for when she had to direct the carriage driver. Gaius and Henry didn't say anything. Henry hadn't spoken a word since leaving Isaiah's homestead, and Gaius was equally quiet. He just sat and occupied himself in inspecting his arquebus. Originally he started to intimidate Pheros, but he now seemed to be doing it as a nervous habit. Wherever Chrom was going, it brought out sorrow in Gaius comparable to what Henry was feeling. This only made him more uneasy, but at the same time he trusted Gaius. If he was okay with it, then Chrom would be too.

Eventually the carriage started to pass by other carriages. Within ten minutes over a dozen other caravans had passed Chrom and the others on the road. This was far too much traffic to be coincidental on the open badlands. They had to be nearing something. Pheros directed the driver to a side road, and traffic increased significantly after that. It wasn't just carriages either. Dozens and dozens of people, maybe hundreds, made their way back and forth on foot. Some looked as if they'd travelled across the badlands entirely on foot. It was reminiscent of a pilgrimage. "Wherever we're going-" Chrom wondered aloud. "It sure is popular."

"It's one of the most popular tourist locations in the continent." Pheros responded. "Have you figured out where we're going yet?"

"No."

Pheros exhaled, as if she'd almost laughed. "You really did shut yourself away from the world for thirty years."

The carriage made its way through the crowds until they blocked the road completely. Chrom noticed a number of other carriages nearby, and there weren't any further ahead. Though they were still on the road, it seemed that everyone could only go further on foot. Chrom couldn't believe how packed the area was. Even the streets of Ylisstol thirty years prior weren't like this. Pheros tipped the driver and urged everyone to dismount. Chrom noticed how subdued Gaius and Henry became as the group moved towards the crowds. "Gaius, where are we? W-why does it have to be a secret?"

"If I told you, Blue, you'd turn around and walk all the way back to wherever you were when Ophelia found you, but I think you should see this."

"What is it?"

"We've been here before, Blue."

"Maybe you have, but I never left my town. I've been there for twenty years."

"No. You've been here, Blue. You've been here."

Chrom wasn't sure how to react to that, so he decided to just follow Pheros as she made her way through the crowds. It was several minutes before Chrom could even have ten centimeters of personal space, but the crowd finally dissipated as groups of people went in separate directions. Just as in Ylisstol, the area was filled with merchant stalls as vendors sold their wares to the travelers. Some sold food and drink, but most appeared to sell nothing more than knick knacks and small trinkets. These were the kinds of things individual peddlers would sell, but the stalls were large and incredibly popular. "W-what are they selling?"

Pheros walked beside Chrom. "Chrom… what you see here may be very traumatic for you, but please don't make a scene. This has all been here for over fifteen years. It's normal to these people."

"What? W-what's been here?!"

Pheros nodded to a market stall. "See for yourself."

Chrom made his way to one of the stalls. The merchant was busy courting potential customers, but the stall was so large that Chrom could easily sample the merchandise without getting in the way of the line. At first glance everything looked like normal objects. There were healing staffs, ribbons, bows, and even masks. Chrom noticed how random the item selection was, but then he began to think of how the items were related. Where he'd seen them before. "N-no. This… this can't…" Chrom picked up the healing staff. It was just a wooden replica, and yet the merchant wanted 1200 gold for it. "The hell is this priced so high?!"

"Careful with that!" The merchant barked. "That's the only thing of Lissa's I have."

"Lissa's?!" The merchant went back to his conversation, and Chrom looked at the staff more closely. It was identical to the one his younger sister had once used. It had to have been a coincidence, but morbid curiosity forced him to look downwards again. The bows and ribbons were identical to what Maribelle had once worn. The masks were identical to what Gerome had once worn. Chrom couldn't believe it, or maybe he just didn't want to, but he couldn't walk away. He forced himself to look at the other stalls, but nothing comforting was waiting for him. Each stall had slightly different merchandise, but there was always a recurring theme. Weapons, armor, trinkets, items, even entire outfits, everything was a replica of something from the Shepherds. Chrom went from stall to stall, desperately trying to see if it was the same everywhere. He continued this until he finally saw something that made the reality of the situation undeniable. A replica of a very familiar metal butterfly mask. "What is all this?!" Chrom furiously looked around, angry not just with the merchants for selling the items, but also with the customers for wanting them. "What the hell?!"

Chrom felt someone try and grab him. He was almost ready to strike if it was a merchant, but he only saw Gaius when he turned. "Chrom! Calm down!"

"Why are they selling paraphernalia from the Shepherds?! How do they even know about all this stuff?! Why have these things from our lives become trinkets?!"

"They're souvenirs, Chrom, and they're relevant to why tourists come here."

"What?!"

"This place… this is Shepherd's Folly."

"And what the hell is that?!"

"Think about it. This place is associated with the Shepherds. We've both been here. Henry has been here too. We… we were all here. Think about what this place is."

Chrom tried to fight it. He actively tried not to think about it. He wanted to block it out and leave without giving it anymore thought, but his mind pieced it together involuntarily. "No. No, no, no! No-no-no-no-no-"

Gaius spoke softly, and he tried to keep gentle but firm physical contact with Chrom. "Have… have you heard of Shepherd's Folly before?"

Chrom honestly hadn't in the past thirty years, but he remembered Keith's words. He'd forgotten since then, but it was all coming back now. "This is where Keith learned about my daughter. This is… this is… where they…"

"Where they died, Chrom. This is the exact spot where they died. Where… you broke us. We… we became legends, Chrom. People learned about what we did. Even though we failed, people saw us… people see us as symbols of hope. They've turned this place into a tourist action, yes, and they sell this stuff because they can, but people first started coming here to pay respect. To honor us. To learn about us. Heh, if only they knew who we were now."

"IS THIS FUNNY TO YOU?!"

Several people turned to look at Chrom and Gaius. "Please try to calm down! Gods no it's not funny to me. I'm just trying to say that these people mean no disrespect. Yes they sell all this stuff. Merchants are always going to try and make money." Gaius pointed towards a large crowd of people. "But people come here to see Shepherd's Folly itself. They come here to honor us. Please don't be mad, Chrom. They come here to be inspired." Gaius looked down. "And that's why I wanted you to come here. I knew you'd never agree if you knew, but I think this is important for you to see. I've seen it, Chrom. It was powerful, but I'm glad I went. Come on. We can go together."

"You tricked me into coming here!"

"I'm your friend, Chrom! I just want to help you!"

"Why do you think I would ever want to come here?!"

"I know you don't want to, but I just wanted to remind you!"

"Of what?!"

"Of what we've lost! I… I'm worried about you. I don't believe you think the world can be saved, Chrom. I don't think you believed in the girls' cause. Now that they're… gone… I agree with Pheros. If you're reminded of what we lost… maybe you'll be driven to defeat the Grimleal. Just like you were when Emmeryn was crippled. You'd have something to live for." Gaius looked down. "I-I'm worried you don't have any reason to go on. I'm worried about your safety!"

But Chrom just took the opportunity to slip out of Gaius' grasp. "I don't want to be reminded!"

"Chrom! Please!"

The realization of what Shepherd's Folly was overwhelmed Chrom. His conscious mind desperately tried to block out the memories that were involuntarily coming back to him, and he felt a surge of stress course through his body like a venom. It was poisoning him. Robbing him of his clarity of mind. Making him want to claw at his own skin. Chrom knew any semblance of peace he had would be shattered the instant he set foot in Shepherd's Folly itself. Just like with Cordelia at Nowi Falls, Chrom was so traumatized that he regarded his friend with little more than fear. "WHY?! WHY WOULD I WANT TO COME HERE?!"

"You should see it at least once, Chrom! Please calm down!" Gaius looked around uneasily, as everyone was staring now. "We can go together. You won't have to face it alone."

"N-no I don't want to be reminded, and I don't WANT TO SEE IT!"

"Please." Gaius tried to gently grab Chrom again, but he severely underestimated his friend's state of mind, and Chrom struck him across the face without hesitation. Gaius was knocked to the ground. Chrom bolted away and forced his way through the crowds before anyone could react, and within instants he was lost in the sea of tourists. Gaius waved away anyone who tried to help him up and stumbled away, clutching a red mark on his face. "Gah! Mother… argh! Princely prick!"

"I take it things didn't go well?" Pheros said dryly as she approached. Gaius shot his finger at her.

"Don't push this, crazy lady! One more word and… and I'll have Henry blow you apart!" Gaius looked over to Henry as he walked by. "Right, Junior?" Henry didn't respond. He just returned the blank stare he had since Ophelia's death. "Yeesh, Junior. Blowing people apart always brings a smile to your face."

Pheros hardly reacted to the threat. "Where did he go?"

"Deeper into the crowds."

"Then he'll see it. It's what everyone is here for after all."

* * *

Chrom barreled through the mass of people as quickly as he could, but the crowds eventually became so thick that he couldn't even force himself past. He could only try and wedge through people, and he moved about a meter every five minutes. Though the tourists had split off earlier to browse through the various stalls, they all congregated into a single human superorganism now. This is what they all came for. Some of them had come dozens of times. Some of them travelled thousands of kilometers to see it. It was what everyone wanted to see, but it was the last thing Chrom himself wanted to be confronted with.

Chrom had gotten so used to having to push past people that he almost tripped upon finally reaching the front of the crowd. Several dozen people all knelt before a solid marble marker that rose three meters into the air. When Chrom calmed down, he realized that everyone there, especially those that had also fought their way to the front of the crowd, was taken by a genuine fervor. The people kneeling clasped their hands together or raised them into the air, chanting and whispering their various prayers. Most people didn't even look directly at the marker. Instead they hung their heads and brought their gaze down to the ground, as if they believed themselves unworthy to look right at it. Chrom had never seen such genuine worship, not even among the devout worshippers of Naga that would travel to Ylisse. The people here were consumed by a reverence for the marker. Deep down Chrom knew the answer to his question, but he still had to ask. "What… what is this?"

Chrom didn't expect anyone to answer but, to his surprise, Pheros had managed to follow him. She turned to Chrom, and the two looked into each other's eyes. Pheros spoke slowly and calmly, knowing how upsetting her words would be to him. "This is where they're buried, Chrom. A few days after they died, a group of travelers found the corpses and dug a mass grave for them. When the public heard about what happened, they came back and turned this place into a memorial. Originally they only had a simple grave, but now…" Chrom turned back to the grave. Looking more closely, he could see that the name of each and every member of the Shepherds, save for Gangrel and Aversa, was engraved into the stone. In front of the marble was a lit flame, and offerings of all kinds were strewn in front of the grave.

"The people… had this built?"

"Yes. They worship it, Chrom. They pray to it."

"Pray for what?!"

"For them to come back, or for people like them to come back. Chrom, the Shepherds gave people hope. Humans need hope. The spirit dies without it. They want things to be like in the old days, where heroes would always appear when the world needed them. The world still wants heroes. Heroes like Archangel. Heroes like you. You may hate yourself, Chrom, but if the people here knew who you were?" Pheros waved towards the people closest to the memorial. They were the most fervent of all. Such was the intensity of their praying that they were almost lying in front of the marble, but they frequently shot up and reached out towards it. Their prayers were loud, almost shouting. Some were even crying. Pheros herself was taken back by the passionate display, but she didn't allow her stoic look to break. "They'd swarm you in revelry. They'd probably crush you by accident. These people worship the Shepherds. They worship you."

"That's not what I want!"

"It's because they see you as a symbol of hope. You were the last group of people to really fight against Grima. You came closest to stopping it. You may have failed, but these people see you as a symbol that people can still fight against what the world has become. You and the Shepherds have become symbols of change. You're heroes to these people, and society wants heroes. Martyrs. People who prove that the regime wasn't completely invincible. That's why they pray, Chrom. They want the Shepherds to come back."

"Well they can't!"

"But you can."

"No I-" Chrom was at a loss for words. He couldn't effectively deal with the tidal wave of emotions coming to him, all fighting for dominance. He could barely think, and he definitely couldn't muster the concentration to keep talking to Pheros. "I-I can't. It's over! I-I can't… I can't be here. I need to leave. I don't want to be here-I-I-I CAN'T BE HERE!"

"Remember how you felt when Emmeryn was crippled? Why can't you feel like that now? Why can't you want to stop the Grimleal like you did Gangrel?"

"Is that why you took me here?! You want me to turn into my younger self, so you can use me for your army?! Don't, don't tell me how to think about this! I am not, I am not DOING THIS! I CAN'T BE HERE!"

"Don't you remember how happy you were? How much you loved them? How does it feel, Chrom, to stand on the very dirt that once ran red with their blood? To stand where they stood when their love and adoration for you turned to fear? To stand where they stood when their idol broke them? This is where it all ended, Chrom, but it can also be where a new story begins." Pheros got close to Chrom, almost whispering in his ear. "Do you feel anger? Rage? Don't you want to put the man and woman that did this in the dirt? With the worms where they belong? Don't you want to stop this regime? What about Soleil and Caeldori? What about Ophelia? What about Cordelia? Think about what happened to them. Don't you realize that loved ones will continue to die if you don't fight against them? Archangel can make it happen."

Pheros' words didn't fill Chrom with any kind of passion. Instead he became increasingly compelled to gaze at the memorial, and he eventually began to take steps towards it. No one paid much attention to Chrom's yelling before, as it barely stood out against the praying, but everyone stared as he walked towards the marble grave. There were no rules against actually touching it, but no one else got that close without kneeling or genuflecting. Chrom didn't notice. He was lost in a kind of trance, and he did nothing but aimlessly take steps forward until he was standing right next to the memorial, and by extension right next to the corpses entombed below. The knowledge of this, of everything Shepherd's Folly symbolized, was too much for Chrom to process. He couldn't think. He couldn't concentrate on any one emotion fighting for dominance in his mind. He definitely couldn't respond to Pheros as she called for him to come back. He just stood there and focused on the names engraved into the marble. Several minutes passed, but the tourists present didn't seem to be angry with Chrom. Rather, they recognized how powerful the sight was too him, and they watched in awe. It was as if they saw all of their own fascination and devotion embodied by the trance this strange man seemed to be in. Chrom read over each name several times. Every single Shepherd was remembered on the memorial. Slowly, Chrom reached out his hand. He touched his own name on the very top of the monument, and then his hand drifted down to Robin's name. His mind immediately flashed back to another point in his life.

 _"Chrom, we have to do something."_

 _Chrom was a young man again. He wore the same armor he wore thirty years ago. He turned to his younger sister, who was only fifteen. "What do you propose we do?"_

 _"I… I dunno."_

 _Chrom looked down as he noticed the strange, unconscious man in front of him move. He smiled down at him. "I see you're awake now."_

 _Lissa stuck her head in front of the man. "Hey there!"_

 _"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know."_

Chrom flashed back to the present. If he had been stunned by the traumatic feelings that had been coming back to him before, he was paralyzed now. Still, he had a strange urge to run his hand along the other names. He slowly moved his hand down to Lissa's name, and again his mind involuntarily remembered another time.

 _"But I don't want a baby brother or sister!" Chrom was only three years ago now, and he slammed his foot down in front of his father. Chrom's heavily pregnant mother was in the background, but Chrom had few conscious memories of her, and so his mind made her face blurry and difficult to focus on. He could see that she had blonde hair, just like Lissa and Emmeryn, but he couldn't see anything else. Chrom's father was knelt in front of him, and he was much more detailed._

 _"This is just something you're going to have to get used to."_

 _"But I don't WANT it!"_

 _Chrom's father almost seemed to want to snap at him, but he took a deep breath and spoke calmly. "But you always wanted to be a hero, don't you? Your little sister or brother will need their big brother there to protect them. Don't you want to protect people someday?"_

 _"Huh. I never thought about it that way."_

Chrom again flashed back to the present, and he again ran his hand along another name, that of his elder sister.

 _"So mother and father are… they're…"_

 _Emmeryn looked down on her brother. She was only nine years old, and Chrom was four. Just a short amount of time after Lissa's birth, their father had died suddenly. Their mother had died just the previous day. Emmeryn was clearly upset, but she put on a brave face for her brother. "They're not coming back, Chrom. They're… when people get older they… they…"_

 _"They're what?!"_

 _"They're… they're in a better place now."_

 _"But what about us?! Why would wherever they are be a better place if we're not there?! Didn't they love us?!"_

 _Emmeryn seemed to regret her exact choice of words, but she smiled and focused on calming her brother. "Of course they did. They just couldn't take us with them."_

 _"But… what about us?! I… Mom… Dad…"_

 _"Hey, shh. Come on." Emmeryn hugged Chrom, who let himself sink into her arms. "You'll have me."_

 _"You won't be too busy as Exalt?"_

 _"No. I'll never be too busy for you and Lissa. I love you, and I'll be here for you. I promise."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Sully's.

 _Chrom was a small child again, only three, and he nervously stood very close to Emmeryn. The children of various nobles, knights, and even servants of the palace all played together. Chrom didn't know them, and he was hesitant to talk to any of them. Emmeryn nudged him forward. "Go on. Talk to someone." Chrom just moaned and gripped his sister's leg, but Emmeryn gently shoved him forward. "Go on."_

 _"I-I don't want to."_

 _"Come on. Maybe you'll make a friend."_

 _Chrom_ _didn't want to talk to anyone, but Emmeryn silently urged him forward, and he eventually approached the other children. Most people were in a group, and Chrom was too nervous to introduce himself to them, but he noticed a woman about his age sitting alone. Chrom took out a small carved toy, hoping he could use it to start a conversation, and walked up to her. The girl brought her red eyes to him and immediately looked annoyed. "What do you want?"_

 _"Uh, h-hi there." He held up the toy. "Uh, do you like my toy? I think it's really fun."_

 _"Huh. That toy does look like a lot of fun." The girl just walked up to Chrom and shoved him to his back. "I think I'll keep it."_

 _"Hey!"_

 _The girl took the toy and returned to her seat. "What cha gonna do about it?" Chrom briefly thought about running back to Emmeryn, but part of him wanted to make sure the girl paid for it. Without any further hesitation, Chrom shoved her off the chair and took the toy back. The girl laughed. "You know what, I like you. The name's Sully."_

 _Chrom wasn't sure what to think, but he decided to smile back. "Chrom."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Frederick's.

 _"So you're the knight my elder sister sent?" Chrom was fourteen now. He was very similar to his nineteen year old self, but he was a bit more fiery. "I told Emmeryn I don't need anybody watching over me! I can take care of myself!"_

 _Frederick was a few years older than Chrom, though still young for a knight. He responded with a simple smile. "Of course, Chrom, or perhaps I should refer to you as Milord. Emmeryn has no doubt that you can take care of your own wellbeing."_

 _"Then you're here to spy on me?"_

 _"And whatever would give you such an idea?"_

 _Chrom crossed his arms and only gave Frederick a side glance. "I know she's on to me. She doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm getting in the way of the pacifistic future she wants for Ylisse."_

 _"I assure you I have no intentions of monitoring you in such a fashion."_

 _"How do I know that?"_

 _Frederick stepped closer. "Because I want to join you."_

 _"Huh?"_

 _"Emmeryn does know about what you're planning, milord. She knows you want to create a citizen militia on your own authority. She says we don't need any more soldiers, but I agree with you. Ylisse needs people to defend its borders. Emmeryn just doesn't understand."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"I want to be part of this, milord. I want to help. And… just so you know… Emmeryn does trust you."_

 _"But you said she knows."_

 _"She does, and she disagrees, but you're still her brother. She knows you'll do the right thing. She holds no distrust towards you, and she'd never send anyone to spy on you. She did ask me to protect you, but I want to be part of this. I really do."_

 _Chrom returned a genuine smile. "Then welcome aboard. Together we can shepherd the people of Ylisse."_

 _"Does your organization have a name yet?"_

 _"Not yet."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Sumia's.

 _"Hey there!"_

 _Chrom was sixteen now. He had been busy practicing with the Falchion, and he wasn't expecting any visitors. He quickly noticed something very unusual about the young woman standing in front of him. "Oh! A Pegasus Knight. I-Is something wrong? Is Emmeryn alright?!"_

 _"What? O-of course not! It's nothing like that!"_

 _"Oh." A few awkward seconds passed. The woman seemed to be waiting for Chrom to say something else, and she didn't at all realize how strange the situation was for him. "I'm sorry. It's just that Pegasus Knights don't usually talk to me."_

 _"They don't?"_

 _"They don't. They're sworn to serve my elder sister, and I'm the leader of a citizen's militia operating entirely on its own authority. Phila doesn't trust me. She'd never say that to the prince directly, but I know how she feels."_

 _Chrom could see that he was right from the subtle expressions on the young woman's face. "Yeah… well… I don't agree. I think you're doing the right thing. Ylisse needs more people to protect its borders."_

 _"Why are you here, exactly? You weren't ordered to see me?"_

 _"No! Nothing like that." The woman seemed a little nervous, and she had to take a deep breath. "My name is Sumia, a-and I want to join you!"_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Oh! I didn't mean to impose. I guess you wouldn't want a clumsy woman like me in your army."_

 _"No, it's just that no Pegasus Knight has ever wanted to join the Shepherds before."_

 _"Cordelia didn't ask?"_

 _"No. I've never been contacted by a woman named Cordelia."_

 _"Huh. She was always talking about you. Anyways, I'd like to join. I really want to help."_

 _Chrom smiled, surprised. "Then… we'd be happy to have you."_

 _"Really?! Oh wow! You won't regret this, C-Captain!" Sumia stepped forward to shake his hand, but she tripped and tumbled into him instead. "Oh no! I'm so sorry!"_

 _Chrom looked up to Sumia, who had fallen on top of him. "Uh, it's alright. We all make mistakes occasionally."_

 _"Uh… it's a little more than occasionally for me."_

 _"What was that?"_

 _"Nothing! Nothing."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Stahl's.

 _"So this man is a knight?"_

 _Frederick nodded as he opened a door for Chrom. "Yes. I trained him myself. He wants to join our cause, and he's a capable warrior… when he's motivated."_

 _"What do you mean by that?"_

 _Frederick and Chrom walked into the room to find a young man with messy olive hair. He was wearing full plate armor, yet he'd managed to take a nap right on the hard floor. Chrom was somewhat impressed. He couldn't sleep in his lighter armor. "Uh… is this him?"_

 _Frederick shook with frustration, struggling not to snap in front of Chrom. "Not this of all times. STAHL! GET UP!"_

 _Stahl slowly opened his eyes and yawned, but he shot up as soon as he noticed Frederick. "Oh! Did I miss the meeting?"_

 _"This is the meeting!"_

 _Stahl straightened himself up as much as he could and turned to Chrom. "Uh, heh, hey there… uh… milord? Is that right? So uh, when exactly is snack time? You guys have snacks right?"_

 _Frederick ran his hand along his face. "Maybe this was a mistake. Allow me to apologize for this, milord. I should have known-"_

 _"Well hold on." Chrom responded. "If he wants to protect the people of Ylisse, then he could help us. Besides, he must be a capable warrior to get through your training."_

 _Frederick realized criticizing Stahl any further would be criticizing his own training. "O-of course, milord."_

 _Chrom turned back to Stahl. "Come on. We'll introduce you to everyone."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Vaike's.

 _"Are you sure about this, milord?" Frederick asked to Chrom. "Everyone else in the Shepherds is a soldier in the military, or a noble. This man is not. We don't know what to expect."_

 _"We'll need to recruit all kinds of people, Frederick. The Shepherds will protect the people. How can we not let them join us if they want to take up our cause?"_

 _"If you say so, milord. I for one won't make a habit of trusting strangers."_

 _Chrom smiled. "Relax, Frederick the Wary. We'll be fine."_

 _"Milord may have meant that title as a jest, but I will take my duty of protecting you very seriously."_

 _Chrom and Frederick turned as a muscular blonde haired man stepped forward. Compared to the other Shepherds, all representatives of the Ylissean government in some form or another, this man was rather unkempt looking. He held his head high, but he notably avoided eye contact with everyone present. Chrom could sense that the man held some bitterness towards them, as if he thought they were looking down on him. Chrom made sure he didn't feel anything like that himself, even subconsciously. The Shepherds couldn't just be made up of aristocrats and knights. Chrom stepped forward and reached out his hand as the man approached. "Hello there, Vaike was it?"_

 _Vaike shouldered his axe, ignoring Frederick as he instinctively reached for his own weapon, and smiled. "Yep, though you can just call me Teach!"_

 _"Teach?"_

 _"Because I might just have to teach you blue bloods something about fighting! I've heard stories about this little army you're forming, but there's a problem. I'm not in it!"_

 _Frederick rolled his eyes, but Chrom took it as a challenge. "You think you can show us a few things about fighting?"_

 _"What, you think that fancy swordplay you nobles learn is anything like the real thing? I grew up in the streets. Fighting is embedded in my blood."_

 _Deep down, Chrom was naturally competitive. He smiled, seeing the man in front of him as a real competitor. "Well, you'll just have to show us."_

 _Vaike seemed a bit stunned. "You… want to spar with me? You're not just going to talk down to me?"_

 _"No?"_

 _"Well, it looks like you nobles can recognize a real man when you see one! Maybe there is a place for the Vaike in your army after all!"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Kellam's.

 _"Are you sure another soldier from the Ylissean army wants to join us, Frederick?"_

 _"Yes, milord. His name is Kellam. He should be here by now."_

 _"I think we've given him enough time. Maybe he wasn't able to make it today. We'll try again another time."_

 _"I apologize for this inconvenience, milord."_

 _Chrom and Frederick walked out of the room they'd been waiting in. Behind them, Kellam sighed to himself. "But I was right here! How could they not notice me?! I hope this doesn't happen again."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Maribelle's.

 _Chrom was nineteen now, though he would be twenty soon. Gangrel had recently been defeated, and in the wake of Emmeryn's death, Chrom had to become Exalt. He had never expected this, and now he wasn't sure he could do it. Chrom was still getting used to the peace, so he instinctively tensed up as someone ran up behind him, but it was only Maribelle. The two had just been married, and Chrom was sure his wife was also having a hard time adjusting, but at least they had each other. Chrom smiled as Maribelle wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "Doing alright, darling?"_

 _"Yeah." Chrom returned to staring though a window in the royal palace. "I'm just…"_

 _"You're worried?"_

 _Chrom slowly looked her in the eye. "I'm just worried I'll never be as great a leader as her. I always thought Emmeryn would be Exalt. I'm not ready for this."_

 _"Well, you are a soldier in your mind. Your actions say the same." Maribelle playfully took her husband's hand and gently kissed it. "But you've always cared about the people. They look up to you. You can do this."_

 _Chrom felt a little better, and he nodded. "With you by my side."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Virion's.

 _"So you're a man of many talents, Virion?"_

 _Virion was seated and enjoying a cup of tea as Chrom spoke. He took his time sipping from it before finally answering, and even then he didn't rise to his feet. "I am indeed, Prince Chrom. You've seen my skill with the bow, of course, but I assure you I am equally capable in all manner of talents."_

 _"Such as?"_

 _"Why I am as elegant in the matters of tactics and intrigue as I am when courting a fine young maiden at any kind of celebration, from the most refined royal ball to the most unrestrained of saturnalia. You see, my very straightforward friend, I can do a great deal for your rough and tumble band of self regulating vigilantes."_

 _"Well we could certainly use you… I suppose. Is there really nothing you'd ask for in return?"_

 _"That's not entirely true." Virion put down his cup. "Perhaps when this is all over, you would come to the aid of my country, as I have for yours."_

 _"Of course! That's something we could do. Where exactly are you from?"_

 _"All in time, Chrom. All in time."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Miriel's.

 _"Chrom! A word with you, if I may!"_

 _Chrom turned as Miriel approached him, a rather stern look on her face. Chrom tried to look receptive, though deep down he was sure she had a complaint about something he thought of as trivial. "Oh, Miriel. Of course."_

 _"There was a new structural deficiency detected in the barracks walls today. Are you the progenitor of this superfluous addition to the building?"_

 _"Uhh, yeah. I'm sorry. I accidentally made a hole in the wall while training yesterday. I didn't think anyone would notice. I'm sure it's nothing."_

 _"And may I see the results of the extensive testing you surely had done to make certain of this claim?"_

 _"Well… I just assumed."_

 _"Of course. Well, I suppose we'll just have to presume that gravitation won't pull the roof down on top of our heads which, may I add, are quite incapable of resisting the resulting shock of kinetic energy."_

 _"I apologize."_

 _Miriel looked Chrom over. "It's fine. I'm sure you couldn't help it. That sword of yours certainly is capable of considerable damage. The enchantment the Falchion has always did fascinate me. Are you unwilling to deviate on your reluctance to let me study it?"_

 _"Goodbye, Miriel."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Gaius'.

 _Chrom readied his Falchion as he approached an assassin. "Drop your weapon, or die where you stand!"_

 _"Easy there, blue blood. I'm not here to hurt anyone."_

 _"...Yet you run with a band of assassins?"_

 _"Believe it or not, just trying to make a living. I'm a thief, see? Bust open doors, crack into chests... that kind of thing. This lot said they wanted to break into some kind of vault. Nobody said anything about murder. I'd just as soon sit this one out."_

 _Chrom hesitated, and an idea came to his head. "Hmm... Then perhaps you'd be willing to prove your good intentions?"_

 _"Beg pardon?"_

 _"We need all the help we can get to save the exalt's life. You appear capable, and we could use any information you have about our foes."_

 _The man considered it. "Oh, right—those good intentions. Fine then, I'll prove my sincerity... if you sweeten the deal."_

 _"You want gold? ...Fine, you scoundrel. Let me just—oops."_

 _"Looks like you dropped something. What's in the satchel, mmm?"_

 _"Nothing—candies from my little sister. I'm sure you-"_

 _"Candies? As in, sugar candies?"_

 _Chrom wasn't sure how to feel about where the conversation was going. At least he was confident that the man was no threat. "Well... yes. I assume they'd be sweet? But-"_

 _"IT'S A DEAL!"_

 _"...You'll risk your life if I give you... a bag of candy?"_

 _"I said "sweeten the deal", didn't I? Don't get me wrong, I'll take the gold, too. Later. Unless you've got more of these. ...Have you got more of these?!"_

 _"Um... I'll ask Lissa."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Panne's.

 _"I knew there was wisdom in slipping in with those rogues. Look at how these man-spawn claw at each other like savages! I will repay my warren's debt and then wash my hands of their race."_

 _Chrom immediately turned at the sound of the voice, but he paused when he thought about what she said. "Another assassin?"_

 _The mysterious woman that Chrom only knew as Marth stepped forward. "Hold! Panne is not your enemy."_

 _"You know her?"_

 _"I know... of her. And I knew she would come here tonight."_

 _"Quite the prophet, aren't you?"_

 _"As you say. And I swear to you, Panne is an ally."_

 _Chrom looked back to Panne. Surely she would have tried something if she was there to attack. "...Good enough for me. All right, Shepherds! For now, we leave this Panne character be."_

 _"Is that wise, milord?"_

 _"Marth has earned our trust. She enjoys her secrets, I know. ...Like her gender, for one. But she's also saved our lives. Twice. And that's enough for me."_

 _"Chrom... Thank you."_

 _"Now, to the matter at hand: driving these scoundrels from our castle!"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Donnel's.

 _"This here's where they've taken up camp, Your Lordshipness."_

 _Chrom looked over the area. "Er…right. Thanks, Donny. Stay close, now."_

 _"Beg pardon, milord? You don't mean…? I…I can't fight, sir! I ain't never even stuck a pig before!"_

 _"Oh, sorry. I just assumed… I mean… Look, just stay here. You'll be fine."_

 _"I wish I was strong as you sirs and madams! Kick that scum out single handed, I would!"_

 _Chrom looked contemplatively at Donnel, and he thought about all the Ylisseans that had suffered under bandit attacks. Chrom wanted to protect the people, but he could also inspire the people to protect themselves. "Then you should fight and grow stronger."_

 _"But I ain't—"_

 _"No man is born a warrior, Donny. And farm work makes for fine training—a sickle's not far from a sword, after all. Bandits may be tougher than wheat, but the principle's the same."_

 _"Ngh… *sniff* A-all right, milord. As you say, I'm no warrior. But these're my people. I gots to do what I can!"_

 _"Everyone in place?"_

 _"R-ready! *ulp*"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Lon'qu's.

 _"Milord? Milady? If this fascinating discussion is over, we'd best return home. The exalt will want this news of our new alliance immediately."_

 _Chrom nodded, happy to not speak of Lissa's admiration for Marth anymore. "Right as always Frederick."_

 _"Hold, boy. Before you go, I have a little present for you." Basilio turned towards a man, and he stepped forward as if reacting to an order. "This is Lon'qu, my former champion. Not much for talking, mind you, but he's peerless with a sword. As good as Marth, in my mind. To be honest, I can't figure out how Marth bested him so quickly."_

 _Lissa looked him up and down. "Marth beat him? But he looks so big and strong…"_

 _Lissa walked towards Lon'qu, but he snapped at her. "Away, woman!"_

 _"Hey! Wh-what did I say?!"_

 _Basilio smiled. "Ba ha ha! Let's just say that ladies tend to put Lon'qu on edge. Nonetheless, he is capable. Perhaps he even has the makings of a khan. Consider him West Ferox's contribution to the Ylissean cause."_

 _"You're certain about this?"_

 _"Yes, yes. He's your man now."_

 _"And Lon'qu? You have no objections?"_

 _"He gives orders. I stab people. I think our roles are clear."_

 _"...All right then. Welcome aboard."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Ricken's.

 _Chrom was resting after having practiced with the Falchion. He looked over at the sound of someone approaching, only for his eyes to fall on nothing. It was a second before he realized that his visitor was well below his field of view. "Uh, Chrom?"_

 _"Ricken. Sorry, I wasn't expecting you. "Do you need anything?"_

 _"Well…" Ricken seemed nervous, and he had to work up the courage to look back up to Chrom. "I was wondering if you could train with me? I'd really appreciate it, i-if you're not too busy."_

 _"Well… I don't know much about magic. Perhaps one of the others?"_

 _"Oh. I see. I just… you're right."_

 _Chrom noticed how distraught he seemed. "Hold on. I might be able to teach you a few things. Alright, we can train."_

 _Ricken instantly perked up. "Alright! I'll show you I belong with the Shepherds!"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Cordelia's.

 _The war with Gangrel had just ended, and Chrom was walking through the barracks for the Pegasus Knights as a shortcut to the palace. Chrom felt an eerie feeling as the barracks had been almost completely empty since the majority of the Pegasus Knights were killed, but then he heard a peculiar song in the distance. He followed it to find Cordelia playing on her harp. Chrom wanted to introduce himself, but he got lost in how beautiful the music was. Without meaning to, Chrom stood there for several minutes, and Cordelia didn't know he was there until she turned around. "Gah! Prince Chrom."_

 _"I apologize. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." Chrom smiled, but Cordelia only returned a nervous expression. "That was a beautiful song. I guess I just lost myself in it."_

 _"Oh! T-thank you, Chrom, I mean, Captain. Milord! Heh, heh."_

 _"What are you doing here, if I may ask?"_

 _"I-I was just here to move my harp. I left it here since it's not exactly portable. I… I was so horrified by the feelings when I came back here that I… I… I guess I thought playing it would calm me down."_

 _"Well that was a pleasant song. You're very talented."_

 _Cordelia's face turned the same color as her hair, and Chrom had no idea why. "Oh gods. He's complimenting me. I'm going to die here." She muttered to herself._

 _"Hmm?"_

 _"Nothing! Nothing. I, uh, are you sure I'm not holding you up? I'm sure Maribelle needs you for something."_

 _"Yeah. I suppose." Chrom got the feeling that Cordelia didn't want to talk to him, and he had likely interrupted a very personal moment for her. "Well, I just wanted to talk. I'll see you later."_

 _"Yeah! Heh! Heh, heh!" Chrom left, and Cordelia hung her head. "I am such a mess."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Gregor's.

 _"This is just the worst. Day. EVER! *sob!*"_

 _Gregor looked down to Nowi, who he had earlier tried to protect. "Ho now, wee one! Do not make with the crying of tears. The evil people are now dead people. This is good, no?"_

 _"You... You're right. Th-thank you. And... I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier. I just get nervous around people who are...outside my age group."_

 _"Your age group? Ha! Gregor much closer to your age than others here!"_

 _Chrom looked over Nowi. Gregor's comment didn't seem to make any sense to him, but he decided not to question it. "Say, um...Gregor, was it? Gregor, do you mind looking after her? We need to press on."_

 _"Mmm... Gregor is mercenary, yes? Maybe you hire Gregor instead. True, Gregor just finish killing former employers, but still very reliable! So long as you not try to hurt little girl, Gregor will not hurt you. Also, Gregor need steady income. ...Many angry former employers."_

 _"You're a sellsword?"_

 _"Yes! Very swell sword! Cost performance very high. You have Gregor's word."_

 _"Sure, why not? You're hired."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Nowi's.

 _Chrom had been fascinated by Nowi since he'd first seen her. Everyone in Ylisse had heard of the manaketes, but Chrom never thought he'd ever see one. Nowi was alone at the moment, and Chrom figured now was as good a time as any to talk to her. "Uh, Nowi? Do you have a minute?"_

 _Nowi turned around and shot up to her feet. "Alright! A playmate!"_

 _"A what now?"_

 _Nowi ran up to Chrom and slapped her hand against him. Chrom wasn't injured, but Nowi was far stronger than any human girl, and such was his surprise that he almost stumbled. "Tag! You're it!"_

 _"What the?! N-no. I was wondering if we could talk."_

 _Nowi whined. "Oh come on! I've been bored all day! I don't want to have some boring conversation."_

 _"This is very serious, Nowi." Chrom caught his tone. Just earlier he had wondered about the things Nowi could have seen in her thousand years of life, but with that exchange he found himself speaking to her as if she were a girl._

 _"Well maybe we can train."_

 _"You want to train with me?"_

 _"Sure! Hide and seek is good for training!" Nowi slapped him again. "Now tag! You're it!" Nowi sprinted off before Chrom could protest._

 _"This is not what I expected a manakete to be like."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Libra's.

 _"You there! Who are you? Why do you fight alone?"_

 _The figure seemed relieved to see Chrom. "Good heavens! You're Prince Chrom, brother to Her Grace the Exalt!"_

 _"You know me?"_

 _"Know you? Of course, sire! All Ylissean clergy do. I must thank the gods for uniting us! Oh, dearest and most heavenly fa-"_

 _"With all respect, now is not the time for prayer—it's action that's called for."_

 _"Ah, too true! We hurried here to help as soon as word came of the execution."_

 _"We? Then there are more of you?"_

 _"Alas, there were. I lost many brave comrades along the way. In truth, I was starting to doubt the purpose of my struggle... But no longer! Pray, sire, let my axe serve you and your party!"_

 _"Your love for my sister is clear. I would be honored to be joined by such a formidable woman of the cloth."_

 _Libra just stared at Chrom. "...Man, sire. Man of the cloth."_

 _"You're a... ...You're not a woman?"_

 _"No sire, Women are clerics. I am a priest. Well, technically a war monk, if you care to split hairs…"_

 _"Oh. Yes, well, I'm... I didn't mean to imply... Well, this is rather awkward."_

 _"Oh, it's all right, sire. You realized your mistake quickly enough. It could have been much more awkward. ... MUCH more…"_

 _"Right! Let's stop there."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Tharja's.

 _"You there! Are you with the Plegians? You seem reluctant to fight."_

 _"Death comes to all of us eventually. Why invite it early, fighting for a cause I don't believe in?"_

 _"So... I should take that as a no, or…"_

 _"Let's just say I'm keeping my options open. I mean, long live the king and all, but I'd like to keep living as well. And I have a bit of a rebellious streak, I'm afraid. A...dark side."_

 _Chrom thought about what the woman was saying. She didn't exactly make Chrom feel at ease, but recruiting foes had worked before. "Then perhaps you would rebel now and fight for our cause?"_

 _"...You would trust me? What if this all just a ploy to plunge a dagger in your back?"_

 _"My sister, the exalt—I think she would trust you. And I'm trying to learn from her. Besides, I already need to watch my back, whether you're with us or not."_

 _"Well, that's odd... Usually when I bring up the backstabbing bit the discussion is over. All right, then—consider me your new ally. ...For now."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Olivia's.

 _Olivia had been practicing her dancing when Chrom walked by her tent. The flap was open only slightly, yet Chrom and Olivia's eyes locked through it. She immediately withdrew deeper into the tent, and Chrom tried to hurry away. He honestly didn't see much through the crack, and Olivia's embarrassment made him assume she was changing. He didn't realize otherwise until she poked her head out from the tent, too quickly to have dressed. "Uh, what did you see?"_

 _"N-nothing! Wait… you weren't getting dressed were you? I-I mean… I shouldn't have asked that! I… this is awkward. I'm sorry!"_

 _"N-no. Nothing like that. I was just practicing my dancing."_

 _"That's all?"_

 _"You couldn't really see me through the tent could you? I'm sorry. I'm the one made this a big deal."_

 _"Then… why would you be embarrassed? All the Shepherds speak highly of your dancing."_

 _"I'd be too embarrassed if anyone saw me practicing!"_

 _"That's a shame. I was hoping I could see it, to be honest. I've just heard so much about it."_

 _"... really?"_

 _"Truly… if that's okay with you of course!"_

 _Olivia looked down, but she smiled to herself. "Well… maybe one day."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Cherche's.

 _"So you're fighting to free your homeland from Walhart?"_

 _"Yes. I won't stop until my homeland is reclaimed." Cherche answered, though she didn't turn to look at Chrom. She was too busy brushing Minerva's scales._

 _"I suppose that is a recurring theme. Say'ri is also fighting against Walhart, and the Shepherds also recruited Plegians who didn't agree with Gangrel's actions."_

 _"Huh? I'm sorry. I wasn't really listening. I was distracted by how adorable Minerva is! Yes you are, girl. Yes you are."_

 _"Cute isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe your wyvern."_

 _Minerva seemed annoyed at Chrom, and she shot a burst of fire towards him. Chrom jumped backwards, and Cherche laughed. "Apologies, milord! I'm sure that wouldn't have hurt though. If you had been hit, you'd have a cute little burn mark like me!" Cherche rolled up her sleeve to show Chrom a long healed burn that Minerva had given her. It was rather severe._

 _"You certainly have an interesting idea of cute."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Henry's.

 _"What's wrong? CAW-strophobic? Nya ha ha! Oh, I slay me!"_

 _Chrom was annoyed by the storm of crows the man in front of him now had summoned, and he was too concerned with Risen to care about anything else. "Not if these Risen do it first! This is no time for japes! Hide yourself, boy!"_

 _"You know, I thought you were all right... Turns out you're all FRIGHT! Nya ha ha! I'd wish you good luck killing these monsters, buuuuuut... They're ALREADY DEAD!"_

 _"We are well aware!"_

 _"The ravens wanted me to give you a message. "Caaw... C-caw-caw." Roughly translated, it means... Hmm, now what was the human word for that again? ...Traipse? ...Tripe? Oh, TRAPPED! Right! ...They say you're trapped."_

 _"We know, damn it! Gods... Where did they all come from?"_

 _"Well, see, when a mommy zombie and a daddy zombie love each other very much... Nya ha ha!"_

 _"Perhaps I should save the Risen the trouble and silence you myself."_

 _"Hey, wait! I want to join your CAWs- I mean, I can help you! I know magic! What do you say... Birds of a feather and all that?"_

 _"Those robes... A Plegian dark mage? ...Why would you help us?"_

 _"Oh, don't let all the joking around fool ya-I've got kind of a thing for killing. Most funny people do, you know. The two things must be linked somehow. Ever talk to a jester when he's off duty? Those guys are some sick dastards!"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Anna's.

 _"Thanks for your help. The name's Anna. Some folks like to call me the Secret Seller."_

 _"Yes, I remember you."_

 _"Oh? ...Mmm, I'm afraid I'm drawing a blank."_

 _Chrom looked at her carefully. "Huh? Oh, then I must be... I'm sorry. I thought you... Wait, what am I saying? I KNOW we helped you. I'm sure of it!"_

 _"Oh! Hee hee! You must have met one of my sisters."_

 _"Sisters? Gods, you look identical."_

 _"Yes, there's a strong family resemblance. Oh, and we're all traveling merchants."_

 _"...With the same name?"_

 _"Yes, actually. That's part of the secret!"_

 _"Your family gatherings must be chaotic."_

 _"True, but aren't everyone's? Still, I can't just send you on your way after helping TWO of us. So let me come along and aid you in return. I can be quite useful. You'll never make a loss with me in tow—I guarantee it!"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Say'ri's.

 _"Say'ri?" The Princess of Chon'sin looked up as Chrom walked towards her._

 _"Prince Chrom? Have you need of assistance?"_

 _"No, nothing like that. I just… wanted to talk."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"I'm glad you decided to take up our cause, Say'ri. This isn't your fight, but still you stand by our side."_

 _"But it is my fight. It is all of humanity's right. Grima threatens the entire world. I sit here now watching as the grass sways in the wind. The sun sips sky until it is drowning in its radiance. I am only more sure that joining you is the right thing to do. When we are strong, and when we have defeated Grima, perhaps then the world will let us be."_

 _"Well I'm glad that you're with us."_

 _Say'ri nodded. She seemed lost in thought. "We are dogs of war aren't we? After so much time spent fighting, the pond is now muddied and coated with leaves, but only now do we see ourselves in it. We hold dear chaotic memory. We only understand as we are ending that we never understand anything at all." Say'ri smiled. "But perhaps the world will know peace when this is all over. Perhaps we can find peace."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Tiki's.

 _"V-voice of Naga?" Tiki turned and smiled at Chrom as he approached. "Or should I refer to you as Lady Tiki? I don't want to cause any disrespect."_

 _"I suppose the later is fine. I don't really place much importance on titles."_

 _"Right."_

 _"Is there something you needed, Chrom?"_

 _"I… I just wanted to talk to you?"_

 _"About what?"_

 _"About your life. I'm sure you've seen so much. I tried to speak with Nowi once, but she's not interested in these kinds of conversations."_

 _"I see." Tiki looked up into the sky. "Humans are always so amazed at my life. More and more as the centuries go by. Long have I tried to bond with your kind, but you always see me as an other. As a divine being, and not as a woman."_

 _"I-I apologize! I meant no disrespect."_

 _"Oh no! I wasn't trying to push you away. It's just that I'll never have the opportunity to really be with my kind. My civilization was destroyed long before I was old enough to really remember it. My mother left me here with humanity, but sometimes I feel so alone. I wonder. Do the others of my kind smile down on me from the heavens, or am I truly alone?"_

 _"I… I don't…"_

 _Tiki turned to Chrom and smiled. "But I'm glad that some humans have cared so much for me. I'm glad you accepted me, and I'm happy to be with you."_

 _"Of course."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Basilio's.

 _"So just between the two of us, there are plenty of good men in this army of Chrom's, wouldn't you agree? So, er, have you...taken a shine to anyone?"_

 _Flavia rolled her eyes. "And I'm to just start listing off crushes then like some little girl?"_

 _"Aw come on, Flavia! It's just a bit of banter."_

 _"Alright. Well… I suppose Chrom is quite handsome… in his own way."_

 _Chrom entered the tent after Flavia's sentence. Flavia initially froze up on the off chance that he heard her, but Chrom didn't seem to._

 _"Hmph. Not exactly a barrel of laughs, is he? Always has his nose buried in those maps... Not to mention that hair! A bit much, don't you think? Overcompensating, I'd say."_

 _Chrom crossed his arms, but didn't speak up. Flavia smiled, realizing she could have some fun. "Your turn then. What lady do you fancy?"_

 _"Hmm. I suppose that Lucina lass isn't half bad."_

 _Chrom's eye twitched, but he still waited patiently for the conversation to end. Flavia had to stop herself from snickering. "Really? And what exactly is it about her that you fancy?"_

 _"Well… she's got a nice figure. Long, flowing hair. Something about that cape. And the way she handles a sword! I like that in a woman."_

 _"Do you now?" Chrom finally spoke up._

 _Basilio briefly jumped up when he realized what happened. "Gah! You set me up, woman!"_

 _"So sorry to be interrupting something so important." Chrom said sarcastically._

 _"Ah we were just having a bit of fun was all! Basilio has nothing but respect for women, and they love Basilio for it. Oh yes. I do have a way with the ladies."_

 _"Sure you do." Flavia added._

 _"Don't listen to that old wetch. Why I'll tell you all about the old Basilio charm if you don't believe me." Basilio stepped closer to Chrom and spoke quietly. Chrom's eyes widened._

 _"T-that works?!"_

 _"Sure does. You'll be drowning in women with that, though remember that the tone is very important."_

 _Flavia glared at him. "What did you tell him?! You know what, I don't want to know. You surely are aware that Chrom is a married man aren't you?"_

 _"We're just having a bit of fun! Why is everyone so serious?! You two need something to cheer you up! Aw hell, where'd I leave the good mead?"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Flavia's.

 _"So, Prince Chrom?" Chrom turned to see Flavia smiling at him. "Have a bit of downtime do we?"_

 _"Do you need something?"_

 _"Of course not! I could never ask anything from you, Prince. We should all be asking what we can do for our leader! Did you notice your boots were especially shiny today?"_

 _"I did. I thought Frederick did that. Did you?!"_

 _"Why of course! It's the least I can do. And I have something more." Flavia took out a rather large sack of gold coins and set it down in front of Chrom. "A gift from the reigning Khan of Ferox."_

 _"Well we are in need of funds. I'll use this to help the Shepherds, thank you."_

 _"Or it could go to you personally. No one's going to know. It'll be our secret."_

 _"I'd rather use it to help the Shepherds."_

 _"Very well. It's up to you."_

 _Chrom looked at Flavia suspiciously. "Is there something you want?"_

 _"Well… there is a small matter we could discuss."_

 _"I'm not going to be your champion again."_

 _"I'm that obvious am I?"_

 _"I'm sorry, Flavia, but I'll have duties to Ylisse as Exalt."_

 _"I suppose I should look for someone else then. Still, I've never had a champion quite like you, and I like being reigning Khan. I'll win you over one day."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Priam's.

 _"I stand corrected. It seems the rumors of a hidden village were true…"_

 _Chrom turned to Robin. "Indeed. But could a descendant of the Radiant Hero truly reside here? I still have my doubts."_

 _"What all do you know about this Radiant Hero, anyway?"_

 _"Only what the legends tell—that he's an unparalleled warrior from another world. They say he felled thousands with a divine blade blessed by Ashera herself."_

 _"Interesting. Then if his descendant exists and possesses even a tenth of his skill…"_

 _"Exactly. Strength like that could be of great use to us."_

 _"This assumes he would even fight for you. A bold assumption, that."_

 _Chrom and Robin turned to see a man looking at them. "Wha—?! When did you...?" Robin asked._

 _"Who are you?"_

 _"I'm Priam. ...The hypothetical descendant you were just going on about."_

 _"What? Well met, then! I'm Chrom, of Ylisse. I apologize if I sounded presumptuous. Though I see I was clearly correct in my assumptions about your strength…"_

 _"Flattery is cheap, friend. Very cheap. So, to what do I owe the honor? A royal's come all this way just to enlist me?"_

 _"Yes, actually."_

 _"Interesting. But I've little interest in following someone else's orders. ...Unless they're handed down by a man who can fight for himself."_

 _"And if I prove I'm such a man?"_

 _"Prove it and see."_

 _"Heh. Right to the point, I see. ...I think I like you already. Very well. I accept!"_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Yen'fay's.

 _"So you're not the Yen'fay from this time? You're from the same future as my daughter?"_

 _Yen'fay nodded. "That's correct."_

 _"I guess that makes you the only person from that time to not be one of our children. I must thank you for standing by their side. We appreciate the help."_

 _"I didn't actually know your daughter, Chrom."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _"In my time, Say'ri died in the war against Walhart instead of me. I was so devastated by her death that I vowed to protect her grave at all costs. Even when Grima began to destroy the world, and even as armies of Risen attacked, I refused to abandon the grave. I lost track of how many years I spent there. Lucina tells me that Naga opened an outrealm gate to send us here. I suppose I was transported too."_

 _"Well, even so, you must be a capable warrior to have survived all that. I am truly glad that you're fighting with us now."_

 _"Thank you."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Walhart's.

 _"I just want you to know, Walhart, that we will defend ourselves if you try anything."_

 _Walhart had been cleaning his weapons, and he spoke without even turning to acknowledge Chrom. "I wouldn't expect you to do anything otherwise, boy. You have no reason to fear me. We share the same foe now. This god of death has made us brothers."_

 _"So you share our cause?"_

 _"I don't share your beliefs, but I will fight with you to save humanity."_

 _"Then you'll forgive me if I don't trust you completely."_

 _Walhart turned. "I may not share your beliefs, but you defeated me! Remember? You proved the strength of your cause, and so I fight alongside you to share in that strength. I have no reason to turn against you."_

 _"Then what will you do when it's all over."_

 _Walhart smiled. "Perhaps another land will know the name of Walhart the Conqueror."_

In the present, Chrom ran his hand along another name. This time it was Lucina's.

 _"What will you do when the fight is over?"_

 _Lucina and Brady looked at Chrom, their expressions making it clear that they had prepared their answer. "Don't worry, father." Lucina answered. "We won't interfere in your life, and we won't interfere in the life of our younger selves either. We'll disappear, and you won't see us again."_

 _"WHAT?!"_

 _"It's for the best." Brady added._

 _"No! You're part of this family! You'll always have a place with us!"_

 _"It's an honor just to fight by your side, father."_

 _"Listen to me." Chrom looked Lucina and Brady in the eye, and the two almost couldn't return his gaze. "You're not dogs of war. You're not living weapons. You're my daughter and my son, and I love you! I'll always love you, and you'll always be welcome at my side. I don't want you to just walk away into the sunset. I want you to stay here. Both of you. With your family."_

 _Lucina tried her damndest to stay stoic, but Chrom could tell he'd moved her. This only made him smile wider. "F-father."_

 _"You'll always be my children, and nothing will ever change that."_

In the present, Chrom also ran his finger over the names of the other second generation Shepherds, but he'd never really gotten to know them. He'd only heard what Lucina had told him. The torrent of memories that had flooded back to Chrom were too much. He could vaguely hear someone calling to him, and he turned to see Pheros. "Chrom? Are you alright? Get back here!"

Chrom just turned, looked at the memorial one last time, and fainted.


	40. The Path of the Righteous Redux

Shepherd's Folly had an inn to allow tourists to stay over the course of several days, and Pheros got accommodations for the group. Chrom was taken to his room after fainting, and he didn't wake for the rest of the day. Gaius himself had little to do, so he simply passed the time in his room until the day came to an end. He didn't sleep well that night, and was still wide awake as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the window. Gaius decided to get up for the day, and he aimlessly wandered around the memorial. It was too early for the crowds. Without the hundreds of tourists, Gaius thought the area was actually peaceful. Or rather, sorrowful.

Behind the memorial itself was a kind of outdoor museum. Each and every single Shepherd had an exhibit consisting of a plaque and several pieces of memorabilia. The plaques had been written by visitors to the memorial, and they contained information contributed by anyone that knew anything about them. Some Shepherds, like the second generation children that followed Lucina through time, had small plaques. People just didn't know much about them. Others, like Walhart, Emmeryn, or Chrom himself, had large exhibits. Everyone had at least heard of them. Everyone had a plaque though. Even Gaius himself, and he'd gotten a chuckle out of reading his.

Lucina's was a unique case. Her plaque was very long, but it was all legends people had heard of her. No one knew much about her actual life, but everyone had heard her story. Gaius wasn't exactly surprised to find Chrom standing in front of it. He was about to introduce himself, but he noticed Chrom seemed to be talking.

"Oh, Lucina. We didn't know each other very long, but for thirty years you've never left my mind. Sometimes I still dream that we're together, and when I wake up… I almost can't bear it. My babies. My babies are gone from me, and the light has been gone from my life ever since. I've been dead since the day you died by my hand."

Gaius almost wanted to turn and leave, but deep down he feared for Chrom's mental health. He couldn't just walk away now. Not after agreeing with Pheros that he should be brought here. "Chrom?" He turned to find Gaius approaching him. Gaius looked over Lucina's plaque. "I thought I'd find you here. If not here then at Maribelle's, or Brady's, or Lissa's, or Emmeryn's."

"I was there earlier." Chrom didn't turn around. He just continued to stare at the memorial to his daughter. "I visited them all. When I came to this one, I just froze. Gaius… I'm sorry I struck you earlier. That wasn't right."

"It's fine. I've taken worse."

"You were right, Gaius. I needed to see this place."

Gaius noticed how motionless he was. It looked like he hadn't moved in awhile. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. Hours before the sun came up."

"You've been standing here for that long?!"

Chrom didn't respond to that. "I miss her, Gaius."

"Yeah. I know how you feel. I was at Noire's earlier."

Chrom took a deep breath. "I know I wasn't really her father."

Gaius nodded, as he knew exactly how his longtime ally felt. "But you loved her as your daughter?"

"Yes. My baby girl, but she was never a baby, and never a girl. Not to me. When she came to me, she was already a battle scarred warrior. Set in her ways. No, no I wasn't her father. Parents are supposed to be there for their children. To raise them. To guide them. To make them who they are. I couldn't do that for her. She was already an adult. No… she did that for me. She made me who I am."

"What?"

"Pheros was right about me. I created the Shepherds because I thought it would be fun. I really believed that we were protecting the people of Ylisse, but I also thought it would be fun to go where I wanted. To fight on my own terms. To be with my friends. To not have any responsibilities except to the men and women that followed me. To answer to no one but myself. I wasn't serious about our fight, not like Lucina was. Even after Emmeryn was crippled, and even after I became Exalt, I still didn't understand how serious the fight against the Grimleal was. Then she revealed her identity to me. As I gazed into her eyes, the same eyes that my newborn daughter had, I saw all the pain and suffering she'd endured. Younger than me, and I was still very young, but she'd already seen more death and violence than I could comprehend at the time. For all that, I also saw determination. She had devoted her life to the fight. I chose the Falchion because… because I thought it would be fun. It was forced into her hands. I became a soldier because I wanted to be a hero. She did it to survive. She dedicated her life to becoming a living weapon, all so that other people would never have to see horrible things she'd seen. It was then that I realized how serious everything was. I wasn't fighting for fun anymore. I wasn't even fighting because of rage, like I did after Gangrel crippled Emmeryn. I fought because I was sure that I was right. I cut down countless soldiers of Walhart and the Grimleal, but I did it without a second thought because I knew that my cause was just. That our fight was necessary. I believed I was the hero saving the world. It's all because she showed me just how important it was to stop the Fell Dragon. It's not the relationship parents are supposed to have with their children, but she made me who I was. But… I was still young and stupid. I never thought about what I was doing for a moment. I had no introspection. I was still doing everything for myself. I thought I could bring peace to the world by just killing anyone who caused problems. No. Somehow I feel that, if she were in my place, she wouldn't have made my mistakes. Gaius… she was the Lord of the story. Not me. She was the hero. Not me. Oh gods, Gaius. It should have been her. She should have lived, and I should have died with the rest of them."

Gaius was stunned. Again he worried about his old friend, and he had to say something. "Blue… you're a good man. You don't have to feel this way. You still have a lot to live for!"

"I've been dead since the day she died. Since the day they all died. Pheros thinks she can take me here, remind me of what I've lost, and that I'll stick my sword in the air and swear vengeance and become the man I was thirty years ago again. But I feel no anger now. No rage. No hatred. No, hatred is for young men. I only feel loss. Hatred, justice, righteousness, adventure, these are the things that convince young men and women to go out and become soldiers. Being a soldier is no way to live. The old and bitter send the young and passionate to die, and on the battlefield only two things can happen. Either you die, or you survive. Those who die are free. Those who survive must continue to fight on the battlefield until they become the new old and bitter, and the cycle continues. With the Shepherds, we didn't answer to anyone. I thought it was different, but we weren't. Not really. War has permeated all of human civilization, and it's a cycle that cannot be broken. Anri and Medeus. Marth and Medeus. Alm and Celica and Duma. The First Exalt and Grima. Lucina and Grima. Even when humanity isn't threatened by some demonic entity, there are always conquerors. Hardin. Rudolph. Walhart. My father. Nothing ever changed. All this war, and all this death, and nothing ever changes. It's a cycle that repeats itself over and over, and people think they can find liberty by continuing it. That's idiotic! The Shepherds were part of that cycle, Gaius. Sure we were all young, and we went where we wanted to, but we were still just another army killing like any other army. We were part of the cycle, Gaius. I… I don't want to be part of it anymore. I dedicated my life to being a soldier, but I never found liberty on the battlefield. The only liberty I found was the love I had for my friends, and my wife, and my sisters, and my children. I can't do this anymore, Gaius. Lucina gave everything she had to war, and what did it give her? What did the cycle give her?! Donnel was right. Her story wasn't an inspiration. It was a warning."

"What are you saying?"

"Like I said before, I can't do this anymore. I can't take another Lucina. I can't see another young man or woman wasting their life fighting, only to die. I can't take that again. The three. Ophelia. Soleil. Caeldori. I… loved them. Love them. I saw her in them, and now they've met the same fate. They devoted their lives to warfare, and now they're gone. Just three more young people killed in battle. All part of the cycle. They say it is entirely seemly for a young man or woman to die on the battlefield. In their death, all things are fair. When the old pass away quietly, alone and forgotten, it is tragic. Better to live a short and glorious life than to fade away. But… is it?" For the first time, Chrom turned to Gaius. "I would never want so much violence for my children. I wanted Lucina to have a husband. Children of her own. A fulfilling career that didn't threaten her life. I wanted her to live in peace. A life like that isn't anything to be ashamed of. A long life isn't anything to be ashamed of. Laying down your sword isn't anything to be ashamed of. There's no honor in throwing your life away in violence. Young people keep thinking they can change the world. That the older generations just don't understand, and that theirs will change everything! Some of them do terrible things, all believing themselves to be heroes, and in time they grow into the bitter old that will send new generations to their deaths. The cycle continues. Gaius, I stand here now looking at one of the few friends I still have. War took everyone I ever loved from me. If I continue… I'm sure it'll take you away too. I started fighting again, and what happened? Cordelia? Ophelia? Soleil? Caeldori? Once more I've lost my loved ones to war. I see now that there will always be Lucinas. Young people will devote their lives to warfare, until the day warfare takes their life back. The cycle continues." Chrom started to pace back and forth, looking up to the sky as if frustrated with the world itself. "What has the world become, Gaius? Now there are more soldiers than ever, but they aren't heroes. They're with the Grimleal, oppressing and subjugating, or they're with the Arch Surg, killing innocents and thinking themselves just for it. They're all expendable cogs in a machine. They don't fight for what they believe anymore. They fight because they don't know anything else. War is the machine that drives this world now. Young men and women, those three girls included, all sacrificed to the meat grinder to maintain it. It no longer matters why you fight. You can't find freedom from the cycle. Not by being part of it. War _is_ our society now. Politics and economics are just iterations of the system that the cycle has built. War has become a set of systems and norms, and this regime that now rules over all humanity is living in symbiosis with it. Morality no longer matters. Ideology no longer matters. Patriotism, loyalty, justice, principles, none of that matters. There is only the war machine. Soldiers no longer fight to protect, or to liberate. They're just part of the authority now. We were the last to fight for what we believed in, but I'm not proud of what we were. The Shepherds were still part of that cycle of warfare throughout human history. The heroes of legend were always defined by violence and death, and yet nothing ever really changed. Grima won in the end, so what did the Hero King do really? What did Alm and Celica do? What did the First Exalt do? All that death for nothing. No, no a life of violence is NOTHING to be proud of. Too long has human civilization glorified war. This military complex that now rules over our race is… is not Grima's creation. It's ours. This is the culmination of human nature. War is a business now! A way to control people! It's no longer about heroism and protecting what you love. No, no it never was. Life's about the bonds you forge with the people by your side. Sure the Shepherds loved each other, but could we have done that without being part of that cycle? I could have loved my wife, and my sisters, and my friends, and my children, without fighting and killing. We were idiots, Gaius. If I could get my hands on my younger self, I'd… I'd… I'D… argh! I'd, I'd show him this. All of this! It's HIS FAULT! It's… it's my fault. Life's… life's not about changing the world. About making your vision life for other people. It sure as hell isn't about killing others because they stand in your way. Life's about… respecting the will of others. Understanding the value of life. There's no honor or justice in killing. I see that now. Life's about… believing in your own will… but not forcing it on the world. Humanity will never come together in peace through war. Humanity will never rally around some Conqueror. Around some Emperor. Around some Hero. Humanity will only come together when we all agree to. When we understand the importance of the bonds we make in life. When we love and care about our neighbors. When we stop fearing each other. When we stop worshiping those who kill." Chrom looked back to the memorial. "I'm so sorry, Lucina. You gave your life for humanity, but I failed you. Still… you showed me what really mattered. Now… I see the truth in your aunt's words. When I was a young man, I disagreed with Emmeryn. With what she wanted. Only now… when I'm older than my sisters, children, or parents ever were, do I see her courage. She was braver than I ever was. Trying to end a legacy of warfare is hard. Picking up a sword and killing brigands is easy."

"What… what are you saying?"

Chrom drew the Falchion. "I'm saying I will follow in Emmeryn's footsteps, not my father's, and I want nothing to do with this **_THING_**!" Chrom raised it above his head, as if about to strike with it. Gaius froze, terrified that he was about to hurt himself.

"What are you doing?!" Chrom ignored him. With an almost horrifying roar, Chrom thrusted his sword into the ground itself with as much force as he could muster. The sword was buried in the ground, almost to the hilt. Gaius wasn't even sure if he or anyone else could pull it out. "Y-your sword. You're leaving it here?!"

"It belongs here, Gaius. As a part of this memorial. Chrom really did die that day. I know I'm not Mercer now. Mercer turned away from the world, and I can't do that. Not after what happened to Cordelia, and Ophelia. People will continue to die if I do nothing. But… I'm not going to fight them like I did as a young man. I couldn't stop the Fell Dragon back then, and it's foolish to think I can now. I'm not the Exalt of Ylisse anymore, Gaius. I'm not the man I was thirty years ago anymore."

"Than who are you?"

"Someone else."

Gaius gave Chrom a confused expression. "You have all that to say about society, but now all you have is 'someone else'?"

"I don't know what I'll do, Gaius." Chrom looked back to him, determined. "But I won't follow in a legacy of violence anymore. Think of how many people have fallen on that blade in the millennia it's been in my family. No more death, Gaius." Chrom remembered the words of Keith of all people. "I will find a way to walk the path of the righteous, without being part of the cycle."

"What have you done?!" Chrom and Gaius turned to find Pheros, her face a mixture of shock and frustration, staring at the Falchion. Chrom noted that he'd never seen her stoic expression break before. Pheros had always been calm and collected to him, and yet now he could see a glimpse of the fury and anger the woman nursed just beneath her light blue, almost slate colored eyes.

"What are you on about now, crazy lady?!" Gaius spat.

"You can't possibly abandon the Falchion!" Pheros cried out, a hint of panic in her furious tone.

"Were you listening to us?" Chrom asked. He squinted at her, suspicious of her emotional reaction.

"I was. You two were already talking when I walked up. I was going to announce myself… but then I listened to what you were saying. I had no idea you felt that way. You… you're really not who I thought you were. You ruined Walhart's dream, and you're the progenitor of all the world's suffering now, but you're also not that same man anymore. Not… the man I hate."

"So sorry to disappoint you." Chrom responded dryly.

"You can't really mean what you said about warfare. About turning away from fighting. Soldiers are necessary for society. They can repress, but they can also protect and liberate. They can be used to conquer, but they can also fight for their loved ones. They can fight to protect an ideology. To keep it alive. Soldiers are willing to give their lives to something greater than themselves, but they're used by politicians for their own selfish goals. They're the bravest men and women in the world, and I know that they're used as tools by politicians and officers, but not by Archangel. She cares about them. She knows what it's like to be one. The Arch Surg is a soldier's heaven, where they can be respected. Where anyone can rise through merit. Where people fight for what they believe."

"And the innocents that suffer under you?"

Pheros tightened her grip on her healing staff in annoyance. It was as if she considered that point to be unimportant, and she was frustrated that Chrom kept bringing it up. "The Arch Surg is fighting for the greater good of humanity. Who cares if it's not perfect. Let me put it in simple terms. We're making the mother of all omelettes here, Chrom. Can't fret over every egg."

"How can that justify your actions when you claim to be fighting for the eggs?!"

"... okay I think we took the analogy too far. That just sounds ridiculous."

Chrom gave Pheros a stern look. "You only took me here to manipulate me into wanting to fight the Grimleal. You think I'll jump on any opportunity to strike at them, and that I'll happily join you. You're concerned about the Falchion because you're afraid you won't be able to have it on your side."

"So what? You're a broken man. You need help to become what you were again! All I'm doing is reminding you of what they've taken!"

"You said you hated what I was."

"I do! I would rather go through menopause again than follow you." Pheros stepped forward. "But I'll fight with you as part of something greater. Don't you understand what I've been saying about the Archanean Liberation Front? It's bigger than any one person. My feelings don't matter."

"You have no empathy. No value for life."

Pheros considered these words. "Maybe I have no empathy as you know it. You just don't comprehend that I'm fighting for the good of the entire world here. It's not about individuals. It's about the revolution. I… I don't have anyone, Chrom. I never had children. No husband. My parents went years ago. I have no one in my life outside of my career, but that's fine. I've devoted my entire life to my cause, to something greater than myself! That is my empathy. That is my love for humanity. You say soldiers have no principles anymore, but that is my principle!" Pheros slammed her healing staff on the ground. "Don't tell me we don't care!"

Gaius stepped forward this time. "Chrom, don't listen to her! The Arch Surg are crazy. They're rebels, and not fun rebels. They're not like the Shepherds. They don't have campy beach adventures or hot springs adventures. They terrorists. They don't negotiate with authority figures. They don't make peace bonds. They don't trust in the judicial system. They much prefer to shoot guns."

"I don't recall speaking to you, thief." Pheros shot back.

"Hey! I may have stolen from people, but I never killed out of self defense! Unless Chrom or Robin ordered me to. And then unless I was paid to. Uh… let me start over."

"Stop it! Both of you!" Chrom shouted, genuine sadness in his voice. "Don't fight. Not here of all places. Not now."

"Chrom." Pheros said gently. "You can't really leave the Falchion here."

"Why not? You think I can still perform the Awakening ritual? You think I can still use it to kill Grima? You think it'll be that easy?"

Pheros looked defeated by Chrom's tone for a second. It was clear that the Arch Surg did hold on to this hope. "It's not impossible."

"Oh yeah? Where is the Fire Emblem now? Where are the gems? Does anyone outside the Grimleal know? Surely Mount Prism is controlled by the Grimleal. Surely they have a whole damn army there! It's a fantasy, Pheros. That sword belongs here. With them. I'm not changing my mind on this."

"But-"

"I'll make you a deal. I'll go back with you to see the other Arch Surg officers, but only if you respect my decision. Only if you let it go."

Pheros seemed to struggle with this for several seconds. The Arch Surg did seem to want the Falchion, but Pheros hadn't been lying about wanting Chrom himself, and she eventually agreed. "Alright. I've heard of how stubborn you can be. It's something Walhart admired about you. Let's just leave before the crowds return. I just think you're making a huge mistake."

"I don't."

Gaius did a double take back to the Falchion. "Wait, you're really leaving your sword? Someone will steal it!"

"The blade is only sharp in my hands. It'll be dulled in anyone else's. I'd like to see someone try to pull it out. Besides, the blade is indestructible. Even if someone takes it, that sword will never disappear."

"But it's been in your family for over two thousand years."

"I don't have anyone to pass it on to. What difference does it make?"

Gaius stared at Chrom for a long time, looking for any signs that Chrom would regret the decision, but there weren't any. Gaius finally nodded to Chrom, and he and Pheros walked away. Chrom was about to join them, but a strange motion caught his eye. He turned to see a blue butterfly perched on the hilt. He slowly approached it, and the butterfly fluttered upwards and flew around him. Chrom swatted at it in confusion and annoyance before reaching out and seemingly crushing it in his hand. He then opened his fingers to find that nothing had ever been there. "Chrom!" He looked up to see Gaius and Pheros both giving him confused glances. "Are you coming?"

"Did… did you two see that?"

"See what?"

"It… wasn't there? N-nevermind. Let's go."

Gaius shrugged and turned back to Pheros. "Wait, before we go. Where's Henry?"

* * *

Back at the merchant stalls lining the road leading into Shepherd's Folly, Henry nervously approached a merchant as he was setting up for the day. The merchant didn't notice him until he'd picked up a replica of a sword. The same sword that his son had once used, and the inspiration for the name of his granddaughter's tome. "Ah, a fan of Owain are we? They say cursed blood flowed through his veins! That of course means paraphernalia pertaining to him is more expensive… you know." Henry didn't seem bothered at all, but he also didn't say anything back. He just smiled and continued to stare at the sword. The merchant gave him a cheesy grin for as long as his ego would allow it, but he eventually became annoyed. "Look buddy, this is a shop. Go read his plaque if you just want to learn about him. That's 2300 gold, and I don't want you breaking it." To the merchant's considerable surprise, Henry took out a sack of gold coins and paid for the sword in full. The merchant counted it, and a more sincere smile crept on his face. "Pleasure doing business."

The sword Henry had just purchased was little more than a souvenir. It was surprisingly accurate to Missiletainn, but it was wooden. It had no significance other than being a replica of something his son had once used. Henry smiled and held it close to him. "There, Ophelia." He whispered to himself, the first time he'd spoken since his granddaughter's death. "Now you'll have something to remember your father by."

(This Chapter marks the end of what I consider to be Act 2. Any comments, questions, or concerns about the story so far? I'd love to hear them.)


	41. The Broken Nose

Just as with the trip there, the journey from Shepherd's Folly would take two days. After a long, largely silent carriage ride, Pheros, Chrom, Gaius, and Henry stopped at an inn for the night. This time the group was headed for The Saltworks itself, and so the carriage route was different from before. This inn was part of a small town. It was still an hour or two from sunset, so Chrom decided to wander around the settlement seeing what contemporary life was like for people in what had been western Ferox. The town was rather developed. It even featured a gunsmith, and Chrom noticed this after turning to the sound of a familiar voice arguing with the smith in question. Gaius was apparently frustrated with the man's prices, and he had sat himself at a nearby table by the time Chrom arrived.

Gunsmiths were a relatively new sight in the world, but they weren't so different from the blacksmiths that had come before. Before mass production made it easy to create identical, replaceable parts, guns were made by hand. Every single firearm in existence was crafted personally by a gunsmith. They varied in skill level, and each one tended to add their personal touch to their creations. Even guns created by the same person, if for no other reason than simple human error, wouldn't be the exact same. Gunsmiths were artists, and their creations were their lethal masterpieces.

Gaius was fiddling with the front of the "Sunspitter", trying to fit a tubular attachment to a slot below the actual barrel. Chrom could have sworn he was distracted, but Gaius spoke directly to him as soon as he reached the table without looking up. "Hey there, Blue. Not going to sleep in the middle of the day this time?"

"Not today. What are you doing?"

"Attaching a grenade launcher, or trying to anyways."

"Grenade launcher? What's a grenade?"

"I sent one your way at Cordelia's homestead. Remember?"

Chrom winced. "R-right."

"Well this little doohickey is supposed to be a spring loaded grenade launcher capable of lobbing one further than anyone can throw one. It can attach right to my arquebus, and it's a lot less hassle than a hand mortar. Of course, that sounds too good to be true to me. Even if the thing works, I'm boned if the spring fails and the grenade goes off in front of me. Even then, lighting a grenade, shoving it in, and firing it off before it explodes is easier said than done."

"But you bought it anyways?"

"Have a little faith in me. The man wanted 6300 gold for it, so I convinced him to let me try it out first… eventually. I'm trying to focus here, by the way. I scratch this thing trying to, hrng-" Gaius became a bit frustrated, and he tried to force the launcher on. "Get it on here, and I have to pay for the damned thing!"

"Wait, but you have that much on you?!"

Gaius finally looked up, but he didn't look at Chrom. Instead he seemed to scan the area. "I don't really like to talk about how much money I have on me. I learned that way back as a young man. Plus, I don't want Pheros to stop paying for things." Chrom stared at Gaius silently for awhile. He lost track of time, and he wasn't even aware Gaius had eventually turned to look right at him until he loudly cleared his throat. "Blue! The hell?!"

"Gaius… why firearms?" Chrom asked quietly.

"Huh?"

"Why do you use these strange weapons? Don't they… scare you? None of them seem right to me. Arquebuses, grenades, pistols, they're all… horrifying. You pull a trigger or light a fuse, and you can take a life. Just like that."

"Is a sword so different?"

"A sword is an honorable weapon."

"What's honorable about slowly bleeding to death in a ditch? Guns are the great equalizers. You want to know why I use them? It makes things easier. I'm a fifty two year old man. With an arquebus, I can take down a twenty year old in an instant. I can't do that with a sword. These weapons keep me alive."

"Is that it?"

Gaius looked down at his firearm, staring blankly into it. "And… they make things easier in other ways. You wouldn't believe the range I had with this thing when I still possessed those goggles. I… I didn't really have to look at people when I killed them. I just shot them and turned away. With a sword… you have to watch someone die. I… I couldn't do that."

"Gaius…"

"When I saw you at Cordelia's homestead, I thought I was some heartless killing machine that could do anything to survive. Now that I'm with you again… I see you and I… I see now how far I'd fallen. I was just lying to myself. The killing did get to me. I used firearms because they made the killing so much easier. It's a cold thing to say, but it's true. Guns… make it easier." There was a moment of silence between the two. Chrom wanted to say something to reassure him, but he didn't know what. Gaius perked up and readied his arquebus, the launcher firmly attached, before he could. "Well, enough with the personal crap. Let's see if this thing works." Gaius took a pebble he'd been keeping on the table and wedged it into the launcher. He pushed it back until the spring was set, then stood up with the gun held outwards. Gaius was aware enough to have the barrel away from Chrom's head, but he didn't quite factor in the launcher.

"Are you sure that's a good way to test it?"

Gaius turned towards Chrom, taking the gun with him. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"How do you fire it?"

"... I don't know." Gaius lightly tapped the launcher. Unfortunately, it was at this exact moment that it chose to fire, and a pebble was sent hurtling into Chrom's face. He was knocked to the ground holding his nose, and a stream of blood flowed from the bottom of his hand a second later. Chrom briefly shouted in pain, but he'd taken so much worse in even recent times. He didn't feel that he was badly hurt, but he was comforted nonetheless when Gaius threw himself at his side. "Oh damn it! How could I be so stupid?! I'm sorry!"

Chrom managed a smile. "Well at least we know it works."

Gaius fought the urge to smile back. "Are you really… come on. Let me get a look at it." Gaius moved Chrom's hand to see that his nose had been bent out of place. "Ooh. Alright, lean your head forward and breathe out of your mouth. I don't want that blood to run down your throat. Does it hurt? I mean obviously it hurts, but is it really bad?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

"Compared to what happened to me at Donnel's homestead, this is nothing. I honestly can't tell if it'd be painful normally."

"Then… I'd better get a good look at it. Uh, I'm going to touch it now. Let me know if I'm hurting you."

"Again, this is nothing."

Gaius took a cloth and gently cleaned up as much of the blood as he could. He then ran his hand slowly and carefully along Chrom's nose, occasionally prodding at certain areas. As much as the two men had gotten to know each other thirty years ago, Chrom felt that this wouldn't have been anything but awkward back then. Now though, Gaius' attention was oddly soothing. Chrom actually found himself focusing on his touch, and he wondered if he'd be so calm and collected without it. Gaius eventually shrugged and stepped back. "Look, let me give you some gold. It's the least I can do. Go see a healer in town. A healing staff should be able to fix that without any problems."

Chrom shook his head. "I don't want to take any of your money. I can just see Pheros."

"I don't know, Blue. I don't want you seeing her anymore than you have to. You know how she is. She hates you!"

"She's not so bad, Gaius."

"How can you say that?!" Gaius again touched his old friend, this time using his hand to emphasize the line Pheros had cut into the Mark of Naga on Chrom's arm. It had since scarred, and it would never go away. "Did you forget that she did this to you?! I, I honestly worry about you whenever you're near her."

"She's not even armed."

"She's the kind of woman that's scary just for being around."

"I'll see her, Gaius. Please don't give me any of your money."

Gaius raised his hands up in mild annoyance. "Alright." Chrom again looked at him without saying anything. This time Gaius simply sighed. "Look I'm sorry, okay! I just wasn't used to having the launcher on the arquebus. I shouldn't have pointed it at you. Look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll let you have a free one. I'll let you punch me in the face."

"Huh?! I don't want to do that!"

"Really? The girls took me up on that offer."

"They did?!"

"Uh… never mind."

"That's not it. I was just thinking about what happened at… Shepherd's Folly. I never should have hit you. You were just trying to help me, and I reacted with fear and rage. It's the same thing that happened with Cordelia at Nowi Falls. You deserve so much better from me. I'm sorry."

Gaius almost snickered. "Is that what you're worried about?! It's fine. Like I said, no more personal crap."

"Heh, right."

* * *

Pheros wasn't nearly as gentle as Gaius. Her solution to Chrom's injury was to rather forcefully shift his nose back into place before using her healing staff. It was less than pleasant, and Pheros had a rather cruel smile on her face as she did it, but she was a professional. Chrom only suffered briefly before she applied healing magic, making it like nothing had ever happened. "There. Tell me if you experience throbbing later."

"Thank you."

Pheros nodded and walked out of the room. Chrom was a little hurt at first, but that passed very quickly. The two didn't exactly have much to talk about. Chrom looked out the inn window and noticed that the orange color of a badlands sunset was flooding the town. He didn't have any reason to stay awake, so he thought about having a small meal and going to bed. It was then that a voice spoke to him. His own voice.

"You know she's angry with you, right? For leaving the Falchion? Her superiors are going to be angry with her, and you know she'll take it out on you." Chrom turned to see… himself. A Chrom was standing in the middle of the room, but he was young. He even wore the same armor that Chrom wore as the leader of the Shepherds. This Chrom was completely identical to what Chrom himself looked like thirty years ago, but his skin had a strange black aura around it, and his eyes glowed bright purple. "Or maybe she'll take it out on Gaius and Henry. You've made a mistake, old man."

"The hell?!"

"No he hasn't." Chrom turned to see another version of himself, though it was hard to tell at first. This Chrom looked thirty years older than him. Instead of armor, he wore robes very similar to what Emmeryn had once worn, though they were blue and gold. Unlike his younger counterpart, this man didn't have the Falchion on him. "Abandoning that sword was the right thing to do, for in doing it you've renounced your status as little more than a cog in the war machine. Think of all the violence that sword represents. Think of the thousands, the tens of thousands, of people that have died by that sword over the millennia."

"That sword has been in your family for thousands of years!" The younger Chrom barked. The older Chrom just shook his head.

"He had no one to pass it down to. The sword would have left his family either way."

Chrom furiously looked back and forth between the two. "What is this?!"

Young Chrom stepped forward. "I'm you. The part of you that isn't a new age, stuck up, pacificistic moron."

Old Chrom also stepped up. "And I'm you. The part of you that isn't a self righteous mass murderer who revels in the suffering he's wrought upon the world."

"Oh come on! Think of all the good we did! We saved Ylisse from Plegia! From Walhart! From countless brigands! Now you're going to turn your back on war because you couldn't stop the Grimleal?! How could you defeat Grima without war? You think you can just go up to it and say 'Ay yo, Grimsies! How 'bout you stop killing my homeboys, ya feel me!' What you think you can just hug Grima until it leaves humanity alone?!"

"Reducto ad Absurdum. You can't prove that peace isn't viable by making such an extreme argument."

"Quiet, you old bag!" Young Chrom turned to his very confused counterpart. "Don't listen to that one. Your life has been defined by war. War is how you saved Ylisse! You couldn't have negotiated with Gangrel or Walhart, and you can't negotiate with Grima. You have to stop it! It's what the heroes of legends did! The heroes of yore were all violent men and women! They killed, and the world was made a better place because of it! You cannot stop the Grimleal without fighting. Don't you remember Cordelia's death?! People will continue to die if you do nothing!" Chrom couldn't help but feel that his younger self was right. That Chrom's appearance changed. His skin and eyes became normal, and the older Chrom suddenly had a black aura around his skin and bright purple eyes. "What has peace given you?! You were the second child! You were unimportant. Destined to marry some unimportant noblewoman, and have unimportant children that would never inherit the throne. War made you into what you are! War gave you the Falchion! War gave you the throne! War gave you your friends! War gave you all those young women that would have eaten each other to be your wife! War gave you all those happy moments with the Shepherds! You'd be nothing without conflict. Because of war, you became Marth, and Emmeryn became Elice. Nothing more than a footnote! War made you the lord of the story! If war isn't your mother, then she's the woman that made you a man!"

"What?!"

"Peace is not a natural state of things. Humans form their groups, their tribes, and then exclude the other tribes. There are two absolutes in the minds of every man, woman, and child. Us and them. You are part of their 'us', or you are 'them'. Peace is not a guarantee in nature. Life is violent. Animals are defined by their inability to produce their own energy. By their need to kill other living things to sustain themselves. Boundless slaughter is a part of nature, and much of it happens for no reason. Fish die as soon as they hatch because they accidentally swim in front of a larger animal. Sometimes they're even eaten by their own parents! Caterpillars are targeted by wasps as soon as they hatch! The wasps lay eggs in the caterpillar, and the thing is eaten alive by the larvae. There's nothing it can do about it! Baby birds are sometimes murdered by their larger siblings, so that they can get all the food. They're doomed simply because their sibling is bigger, and that only happened because they hatched a few days earlier. Deer fawns starve to death because their mother had twins, and only wanted to feed one. Piglets are savaged by their own mothers. Cicadas become trapped underground because a building was constructed over them while they were developing. The young of many mammals are murdered by new alpha males, because they want to ensure that only their bloodline is passed on. Even humans sometimes abandon their children. Even beyond the predator prey relationship, nature is filled with death. It's pointless, and it happens for no reason. Even in nature, there is no such thing as peace. Humans are different, though. We make slaughter, but not for no reason. To help people. To fight for ideas. For freedom. We are different from beasts, because we make war for a reason! Our suffering comes for a reason. The heroes of legend used war to save the world! War is part of human psychology. People will always demonize their enemies, justifying war against them. Groups of humans will always fight each other. Humanity as a species will never get along. Never! We are violent, selfish creatures, but good can come from that. We can make the world a better place for our violence! War is human nature made manifest. That is why it is perfect!"

The older Chrom just shook his head again. "You talk about us and them, but the problem with war is that our enemies are humans. Just like us. Is there any such thing as an absolute enemy? An enemy that you'll always fight against? Look at history. Once the countries of the Archanean continent were separate, and they warred with each other. Then Marth united them all. Eventually the continent was split apart again, but even then enemies change. Ylisse and Plegia were once foes, but you united them against Walhart's Empire. Even now, Ylisseans and Plegians fight side by side in organizations like the Arch Surg against the Grimleal, which also consists of Ylisseans and Plegians. Even the dragons are not always enemies. Grima was not always around. Medeus was once an ally of Naga who supported her plan to have humans succeed the dragons. Even Naga was not always so benevolent. Enemies change as easily as the wind. Today's friend can be tomorrow's enemy, and today's enemy can be tomorrow's friend. Just look at the people you knew. Gaius, Henry, and Tharja were your enemies, but they became your allies. Pheros was torturing you, but now you two are at peace. Gaius especially once hated you, and now he's your closest friend. Soleil once blamed her father's death on you, but she came to love you in his place. Don't you see the tragedy of war? Conflict is not absolute. Politics are not absolute. Enemies are not absolute. Death is. All men are brothers, and all women are sisters. Our enemies are always changing, but those who die in war are gone forever. When you kill someone, you take away everything they are, and everything they were going to be. Don't you see how pointless it all is?" Chrom thought about the words of the older Chrom. Again the younger Chrom had a strange black aura around his skin and glowing purple eyes. Now they both looked menacing, and Chrom wasn't sure who was right. "We're all just people trying to find our way in the darkness. Society has been built on war. Politics, economics, technology, they're all just aspects of war. Of societies trying to compete with each other. This war machine has dominated society, but that doesn't mean there can't be peace. It's what you were always fighting for, wasn't it? You can't make peace through war. You just can't. The cycle breeds itself. War causes hatred, suffering, and lingering conflict. These in turn trigger new wars, and these will trigger new wars. For all the men and women that die, nothing will change. All wars in history can be traced back to another conflict. Another historical event. You cannot stop it by fighting. You have to work for peace. You did the right thing by giving up the sword."

The younger Chrom stepped forward. "Don't listen to him! War is who you are! You have to fight! It's why you were _written_!"

"Written?!"

"Don't you get it?! You're the lord of the story! You're supposed to fight! Just like all the other lords in the other stories! Your entire life is nothing but the thirteenth chapter in the story of Fire Emblem, and it's a story of war! You're but a unit in a game, and your moves are not your own. They are made for you by an invisible hand. You exist for that unseen intelligence. They're drawn to these stories because they enjoy the war. They play God with your lives!"

"What?!"

The younger Chrom stared right at his counterpart, but his glowing purple eyes seemed to look through him. He wasn't talking to Chrom. His words were meant for something else. Perhaps he was speaking to that unseen intelligence he'd been ranting about, as if it could somehow read his words like one might read a chapter in a story. " _You_. You like it don't you? The fighting. The killing. The adventure. You enjoy these stories, because you enjoy war being turned into a game. Chrom. Robin. The Shepherds. They're there for you to experience this tale of heroism and fighting. All the emotion. All the suffering. You drive it, and you do it because it's _fun_."

Chrom ran his hands through his hair. "I don't understand any of this!"

"You were made to entertain these unseen intelligences, Chrom! You're a unit in a game, and you have no right to think for yourself! They don't want to see pacifist Chrom. They want to see you pick up the Falchion and fight! They want you to kill Grima! They want you to avenge everyone that died! You exist for their entertainment, now do what you were written to do! Fight! Go back and get the Falchion!"

The older Chrom stepped forward. Both were yelling now. "No! The only way to win the game is not to play! The fighting can be endless if you let it, but you don't have to play! Don't get the Falchion!"

"Get your sword!"

"Don't get your sword!"

"Get your sword!"

"Don't get your sword!"

"Get your gods-damned sword!"

"Don't get your sword!"

" ** _SHUT UP_**!"

"Chrom?" He turned to find Gaius in the doorway to the room. "Are you alright?"

Chrom was sure none of that had been real, and he tensed up. "How much of that did you see?"

"How much of what? I just got here, but I heard you yelling."

"Uh… it was nothing. W-what do you need?"

"You need to come out here now!"

"Why?"

"It's Soleil and Caeldori!"

That was all Chrom needed to hear. Without another word he bolted after Gaius, and he almost couldn't believe his eyes. Several Grimleal Reavers took position at the end of the street leading into town. In front of them stood Inquisitor Altman, the man that had once tortured Soleil and Caeldori at The Rockpile. As such, it was only fitting that the two women themselves were in front of them. Chrom couldn't begin to imagine how they'd escaped Dartsmoth at the homestead, but he barely cared at all. What mattered is that they were alive, and they were here. "H-how… is it really-"

"I don't know what happened, Blue." Gaius readied his arquebus and cautiously approached the Reavers. "But they're here, and they need our help! Come on!"

"Blue?" Soleil recognized Gaius' name for Chrom, and she briefly turned her head to see him. Both of them returned big, goofy smiles. "Heh, try to keep up, old man."

Chrom excitedly turned to Caeldori. "And you-"

Caeldori smiled to herself, but she didn't turn away from Altman and the Reavers. She kept her lance pointed at them. "It's me, Chrom, but this isn't the time. Help us deal with this!"

"R-right!" Chrom and Gaius ran up. The Reavers readied their weapons, and Altman readied his glaive. His expression was calm, and his voice didn't have even the slightest sign of frustration or distress.

"You two can't run from me forever." He said to Caeldori and Soleil, ignoring Chrom and Gaius completely. "No one leaves The Rockpile."

"We're not going back with you! Not without a fight!"

"You lack the clarity and the purity to understand what I do for humanity, but very well. I can converse with you on that level." Altman pointed his glaive at the group. "Get them!"

The Reavers charged forward, and Altman targeted Soleil and Caeldori specifically. The Reavers themselves tried to block Chrom and Gaius off, but they weren't particularly difficult foes. Chrom quickly brought one down with the Thundergrypp, then armed himself with the Reaver's sword. It only took him a few minutes to break through the Reavers as they simply threw themselves at him without form or strategy. As soon as the last one fell, Chrom ran towards Altman in a desperate attempt to separate him from Soleil and Caeldori. Altman's glaive was not for show, and he infused his surprisingly powerful and quick blows with occasional blasts of dark magic. Chrom and Soleil themselves were thrown backward by his magical attacks, but Caeldori managed to weave through them and engage in close combat, her lance and Altman's glaive becoming conjoined in a vortex of strikes, parries, and feints. Caeldori was skilled, and she almost gained the upper hand on the older Inquisitor at times, but Altman was a tier above her. After a furious exchange of blows, Altman managed to disarm her and stab his glaive through her right thigh. Caeldori's combination of a short skirt with knee high boots did little to protect her, and she went down screaming. Altman stood over her in triumph for a few seconds, but the only thing waiting for him as he brought his head back up was a bullet from the Sunspitter. Altman died instantly, and the threat of the Grimleal disappeared. Chrom took little joy in Altman's death, as Caeldori's screaming shattered any illusion of victory he might dared to have nurtured. He rushed to her side with everyone else, though Gaius and Soleil had somehow beaten him there. Pheros and Henry were also by her side, even though they weren't around during the battle. "Is it serious?!" Chrom cried out.

Everyone just turned to look at him, their expressions bitter. "Another one suffers because of you." Pheros responded.

"What?! I-Is she okay? Answer me!"

Gaius shook his head. "You killed my wife and daughter." He said coldly.

"W-what does that… huh?!"

"You got my granddaughter killed." Henry said.

"You couldn't save my grandmother!" Caeldori roared through her pain. "And you had sex with her!"

Soleil stepped forward. "And you wouldn't let me hit you when we were training!" She cried.

"What?!"

Soleil raised the Thundergrypp. Chrom looked down to his own body in a panic. He wasn't sure how, but Soleil had somehow taken it from him. A smile consumed her face as she pulled back the hammer on the barrel that hadn't been fired. "Try to keep up, old man."

"Wait! Soleil… what are you… stop!"

"Good riddance." Gaius said. Everyone but Soleil turned back to Caeldori. Soleil just smiled even wider and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet tunneling through Chrom's head and knocking him to the ground.

* * *

Chrom woke up in an empty field. Strangely, he was already standing up, as if he'd been unconscious like that. He tried taking a step forward, but he felt resistance as he moved his leg. Only then did he realize that he was standing in a waist high lukewarm river. The water had a slow current, but he could barely feel it. The river banks were very steep, and Chrom wasn't sure he could climb out of them. "What the?"

Chrom looked forward at the sound of something in the river. A woman with long, blonde hair seemed to rise from the water, hovering about a meter in the air. The woman wore long, white robes, though her arms were covered with golden plate armor. When she turned to face Chrom, he could see that her eyes glowed with a bright golden light. "So much death." The woman said in a soft voice. "Death is tragic, but life is miserable. Life is but a handful of pleasurable experiences. Moments with friends and family. Sexual encounters. Good meals. The rest is suffering and struggling. These emotions are taken with people as they die. The living do not hear their cries. Their suffering may fall on deaf ears. But rest assured, the dead are _not_ silent. I can show you their suffering. Show you the suffering you have wrought upon the world."

"W-what?! What is this? Who are you?"

"It matters not who I am. Come then. See what you have done to the world. To your own kind. Walk forward." Chrom looked around. The river was perfectly straight, and it seemed to go on forever. There was no way out. The woman shook her head. "There is no other way to leave this place. Be warned, the dead would drag you down with them if they could."

"What?!"

The woman didn't say anything else. She just floated ahead, almost out of view. Reluctantly, Chrom began to walk forward. Distance didn't seem to mean anything here. The river disappeared behind Chrom, and the scenery in front of him never changed. He just walked aimlessly along, but he eventually came across another person in the river. As he got closer, he could see that the man was transparent, like a spectre. Getting even closer to the man, Chrom's eyes widened in shock. He recognized him. It wasn't the kind of memory that he could consciously recall, but he instantly realized who the man was at the sight of his face. It was a brigand he'd cut down when he was fourteen years old, shortly after founding the Shepherds. This was the first man Chrom ever killed. Chrom had used the Falchion to slice through the man's throat, and now the spectre had a continuous stream of blood spurting from the wound. "Oh gods!" The man cried, his voice heavily distorted. "My throat! It's coming apart! Please help me!"

"Agh!"

The man stumbled towards Chrom, and he was too shocked to react. The man tackled Chrom, and his touch burned. "Help me! My throat! HELP ME!" The man screamed. The man's searing touch crippled Chrom with pain, and he couldn't stop the man from dragging him underneath the river. He forcibly held Chrom under the water until he finally couldn't hold his breath anymore. At the moment of his "death", he was teleported back to the start of the river. Once more the woman was hovering in front of him.

"What just happened?!"

"The dead would drag you down with them if they could." She repeated. "Walk. Do not stop. Do not run. Just walk."

Again the woman floated away, and again Chrom started walking down the river. He eventually encountered the man again, and once more he stumbled after him, but Chrom didn't stop this time. He kept walking until the man was behind him, and eventually the man's spectre faded away. Chrom looked forward to see several dozen spectres in front of him, and he recognized them all. These were several dozen brigands and Plegian soldiers he'd killed before he met Robin. They all stumbled after him, but Chrom remembered what the woman told him. He kept walking. The spectres moved too slowly to catch him, and they all dissipated as he walked by them.

Chrom eventually encountered a spectre he recognized as Garrick. These were the Plegian brigands he'd killed when he first met Robin.

He then encountered Feroxi soldiers he and the Shepherds had to kill after being mistaken for brigands at The Longfort.

He then encountered Roddick and the brigands that had attacked Donnel's village.

He then encountered Orton and the Plegian soldiers that he killed at the Border Pass.

He then encountered Victor and the brigands he killed when he first met Anna.

He then encountered the Plegian assassins that had tried to kill Emmeryn in Ylisstol.

He then encountered the Plegian soldiers under Vasto that he had killed at Breakneck Pass.

He then encountered Chalard and the Grimleal soldiers that he had killed at the Border Sands.

He then encountered Campari and the Plegian soldiers he'd killed at Castle Plegia.

He then encountered Vincent and the brigands he'd killed after meeting another Anna.

He then encountered the Plegian soldiers under Mustafa that he'd killed at The Midmire.

He then encountered the Plegian soldiers he'd killed while fighting Gangrel.

There was a long pause after that, as there had been two years of peace after Gangrel's defeat. Chrom had lost count of how many people he'd seen. Disturbingly, they all had the same injuries they had when they died. If he killed someone by stabbing them, then blood still poured out from their injuries. If he'd cut of someone's limbs, then they were still missing limbs.

He kept walking, and eventually he encountered more people in the river. He saw Dalton and the Valmese soldiers he'd killed at Port Ferox.

He then encountered Ignatius and the Valmese soldiers he'd killed while going to fight against Walhart.

He then encountered all the enemies the Shepherds had fought against while meeting the second generation children. He saw Gecko and his bandits. Jamil and his Grimleal soldiers. Xalbador and his soldiers. Cassius and his soldiers. Ruger and his soldiers. Nelson and his soldiers. Morristan and his soldiers. Gyral and Dalen, and their forces. Nombry and his soldiers. Ezra and his brigands.

He then encountered the Valmese soldiers under Farber he'd killed when he met Say'ri.

He then encountered the Valmese soldiers under Cervantes he'd killed at the Mila Tree.

He then encountered the Valmese soldiers under Pheros he'd killed at Fort Steiger.

He then encountered the Valmese soldiers he'd killed under Yen'fay when Say'ri had fought against him.

He then encountered Excellus and the Valmese soldiers that died when he confronted Walhart.

He then encountered the Grimleal soldiers under Algol that attacked as they tried to leave Castle Plegia.

He then encountered Zanth and the pirates he'd killed while recruiting Gangrel.

He then encountered Ardri and the Grimleal soldiers he'd killed while recruiting Emmeryn.

He then encountered the soldiers he'd killed while recruiting Priam.

Chrom then encountered several dozen more people in the river, and he froze at the sight of them. Save for the few that Chrom knew were still alive, every single Shepherd now stood before him. Deep down Chrom knew that this was coming, but he still wasn't prepared for it. He stood in shock as they began to stumble towards him, and he eventually broke down at the sight. Forgetting the woman's warning, Chrom sprinted away from them. When Chrom was walking, the people in the river only stumbled after him. When he began running, they full on sprinted after him, and they moved faster than he could. Sully, Sumia, Olivia, and Maribelle were the ones to catch him. Just as with the man at the beginning of the river, their fingers burned to the touch, and they tried to drag Chrom under the river. "You betrayed us all!" Sully shouted.

"You cut off my daughter's arm!" Sumia cried.

"We trusted you!" Olivia screamed.

"We were supposed to spend our lives together!" Maribelle yelled. The four women overpowered Chrom and dragged him beneath the river. The other Shepherds stood around them, ready to react if Chrom somehow escaped. The pain and stress was too much, and Chrom couldn't break free. At the moment of "death", he was teleported all the way back to the start of the river. Once more the woman floated in front of him.

"Do not stop. Do not run. You must walk."

And so Chrom walked down the river, again seeing all of the spectres from before. He didn't stop walking when he finally reached the Shepherds. They all stumbled after him as the other people did, but he didn't look at them. He just kept his head down and walked on, and eventually they all dissipated. The last Shepherd he saw was Lucina, still missing both arms. She didn't stumble after him as all the others did. She just gave him a solemn look until she too disappeared behind him.

There was another pause after Chrom walked past the Shepherds, but he eventually encountered more people in the river. This time he saw a small group of slavers that he'd fought after he saw them threatening a caravan. This was when he met Donald, just after settling in the town he'd live in for the next twenty years. After that there was another pause, but inevitably Chrom would encounter more people.

He saw the lieutenants and agents of Courtney that he'd killed after the death of Conrad and his daughter.

He then saw the soldiers loyal to Keith he'd killed at Veslil. Strangely, he then saw the spectres of Tunnellers. Chrom noticed that there weren't any Risen in the river, so he was surprised to see them. The Tunnellers were not as slow as the human spectres. They dashed around and jumped in place, but they also didn't actively try to attack Chrom.

He then saw several Reavers he'd killed at Cordelia's homestead.

He then saw several Tunnellers he'd killed at Nowi Falls. He also saw the Inquisitor he'd shot through the eye and Kryczek. Kryczek still had blood pouring from the gunshot wound in his throat.

He then saw the Arch Surg soldiers he'd killed while escaping Fort Morgan. Chrom was particularly disturbed by this, as many were missing pieces of their bodies after having been attacked by the ballistician.

Chrom finally reached the end of the river. He'd seen the faces of every single person he'd ever killed in his life. Every. Single. One. Shocked and unable to process the emotions the experience had brought out, Chrom did what any other man in his strange position would have. He cried. He'd never seen so much death in his life, but it was all real. All those people had fallen on his blade. He was simply being forced to remember them. The woman eventually appeared before Chrom again. "How many men and women no longer draw breath for your having existed?"

"I lost count." Chrom said, his voice broken.

"You're a mass murderer. You live for battle. Battle brings death. Death brings suffering. How much suffering has humanity endured for your birth?"

Chrom fell to his knees, causing the water to go up to his shoulders. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"

"You have faced your guilt. You didn't let it stop you. You didn't run from it. You faced what you've done to the world. Facing your guilt is the first step to overcoming it. You can still be a hero, Chrom, but you must overcome the guilt that now flows through your very blood. I leave you with this." The woman began to float up. "Do _not_ trust your loved ones."

With that, Chrom was left in the river with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.


	42. The Initial Conditions

Dartsmoth, the remaining Deadlords, and the recon soldiers under his command had set up camp just outside of Isaiah's now abandoned homestead, and Caeldori and Soleil had been detained along with them. Caeldori was currently bound by her wrists and ankles to a chair, and she'd been left alone for over two hours now. Besides that, Dartsmoth had left Cordelia's severed head in the tent with her, angling it so that Caeldori was forced to look right at it. Even now, Caeldori could do little but stare at it. At first she'd tried to look at anything else, but it was hard to maintain that. She even tried keeping her eyes closed, but the stench was a constant reminder of its presence. Beyond that, she could just feel it staring at her. She'd broken down crying upon finally looking at it, but even that was an hour ago. Now her eyes, red with irritation, held nothing more than hatred for Dartsmoth. Now Caeldori stared into her grandmother's decomposing head on purpose. It was a focal point for her rage.

Besides what remained of her grandmother, the only thing keeping Caeldori any company was a single fly. The desertification caused by Grima's Blight had severely reduced insect populations in affected areas, but many insects were too hardy to be eradicated entirely. As thankful as Caeldori was that there weren't more flies desecrating her grandmother's corpse, the one fly that had made its way to her head filled her with a quiet fury that had grown worse by the second. With nothing else to do, she watched the fly's every movement. She watched as it buzzed around, landing on various places. As it crawled into her eyes, which had long since degenerated into mush. As it rubbed its legs together after landing as flies did. As it stopped for long periods of time only to randomly move again. Even if Caeldori didn't want to look at it, the droning of the insect's wings was a constant reminder of its presence. Caeldori had grown to hate it over the past two hours, and yet she knew there was no malice in its actions. This was all Dartsmoth's fault.

As much as Caeldori hated the silence, such was her acclimation to it that she was startled when Dartsmoth himself finally entered the tent, flanked by a recon soldier. Dartsmoth reached into his robe and pulled out his cigarette box, but his thuggish face contorted with anger as he realized it was empty. "Damn it!"

The recon soldier pulled out a cigarette from his own clothing. "Do you want one of mine?"

Dartsmoth took it and inspected it closely. He even sniffed it. "Ew. This is the crap tobacco they try to grow here in Ylisse and Plegia. Tobacco is native to my homeland, you know. There's nothing like Wielklavian tobacco. Home is where the heart is. That's true of plants and people."

"You could just say no."

"I'm not saying no. Better than a kick up the backside." Dartsmoth waved his hand. Magically generated fire appeared, and he used it to light the cigarette. He took a long breath before intentionally blowing smoke in Caeldori's face. "Where are your friends?"

Caeldori gave Dartsmoth a death glare, focusing on all of her hatred of him. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"Oh I intend to."

Dartsmoth casually stepped forward and grabbed the middle three fingers on Caeldori's metal hand. With inhuman force, he was able to forcibly detach the appendages. He then squeezed on the metal, compressing it beyond repair with a horrible screech. Caeldori obviously felt no pain in her prosthetic, but the sight of what was essentially her hand being torn apart did little for her nerves. Dartsmoth looked directly at Caeldori as he opened his hand, letting the ruined metal fall to the ground. "How about I do that to your other hand next time?"

" _Darn_ you."

Dartsmoth shook his head and removed his sunglasses, revealing almost demonic eyes that glowed a bright golden color. He knelt down in front of Caeldori and looked straight into her own eyes. Caeldori had to squint, as the light from Dartsmoth's eyes was like staring right at a candle. "You look tough, girl. I bet you can take a lot of punishment before you break." Dartsmoth took another breath from his cigarette. "But everyone has their limit. Everyone can only take so much pain before they break." Dartsmoth's lips curled into a rather unsettling smile. "And there's something I've learned in all the years I've been doing this. There's more than just physical pain. There are a lot of other ways to torture people." Dartsmoth blew smoke in Caeldori's face again and turned to the recon soldier. "Bring out the pink haired one." Caeldori's eyes briefly widened, but she tried to suppress her fear as much as she could as the recon soldier disappeared. He returned with Soleil. Like Caeldori herself, Soleil was bound by her wrists and ankles to a chair, and the soldier simply dragged the chair itself to bring her in the tent. Soleil's mouth wasn't covered, and she cursed up a storm as the soldier handled her, but neither he nor Dartsmoth seemed to care. The Inquisitor simply put his sunglasses back on and looked back to Caeldori. "One more time, Sheila. Where are your friends?"

Caeldori was silent, though she couldn't quite hide the concern she had for Soleil's safety. Dartsmoth noticed her every subtle movement, and he smiled. Soleil continued to yell at him until he couldn't drown her out anymore. "She's not going to tell you anything, you absolute fop! Why don't you take those stupid glasses and crawl back to whatever rathole you came from?!"

Dartsmoth placed his foot on Soleil's chest. "No one was talking to you, dyke. It's your friend here that I'm interested in."

"She's not any different from me!"

"Nah, you're right. She's the granddaughter of a military official in the old world regime, and you're the granddaughter of a dancing whore so, yeah, no difference. Fuck me dead! How do rebels this stupid keep evading us?!" Dartsmoth looked back to Caeldori while still pressing down on Soleil's chest. "Listen to me. You're a fair dinkum Pegasus Knight, so I'm going to treat you like a real combatant. In fact, I'll make you a deal. Tell me what I need to know-" Dartsmoth didn't look back to Soleil. He just nodded towards her. "And she'll be right. If you don't…" Dartsmoth reached towards a table by the wall of the tent, and a pair of pliers telekinetically flew into his hand. He finally looked back to Soleil, a horrible smile on his face. "Open your mouth."

Soleil's face turned white. "W-what?!"

"I said-" Dartsmoth stuck his hand out, and an invisible force seemed to grip Soleil's mouth. He slowly moved his hand, and Soleil's mouth began to open. She screamed and struggled against her bindings, but nothing she did could stop it. "Open your mouth, you bloody piker!"

"S-stop!" Caeldori cried out. Dartsmoth took his pliers and got a good grip on one of Soleil's molars, a shriek from the mercenary confirming that he'd gotten it.

"That's up to you. No more mucking around. Just tell ol' Dartsmoth what he needs to know, else-" Dartsmoth pulled on Soleil's tooth, and she gave a horrifying cry. There was no anger or frustration in it. Just pain. "Things get real messy."

Caeldori's eyes darted between Dartsmoth and Soleil. She couldn't imagine Soleil suffering from that kind of pain. Neither of them were strangers to being prisoners of the Grimleal, but they'd never suffered anything like this. Still, Caeldori didn't want to break in front of Dartsmoth. Cordelia didn't teach her to waver in the face of an enemy, and the Grimleal could simply kill them if she told them everything. "Don't tell him anything!" Soleil struggled to say, though it didn't come out clear. Dartsmoth began to pull upwards, his actions accompanied by another tortured shriek from Soleil.

"Quiet!"

"Stop this!" Caeldori pleaded. The rational part of her knew that Dartsmoth would never listen, but she had to say something. "PLEASE!"

"Where are your friends?"

"Don't!"

"Where're your friends?!"

"Don't tell him!" Soleil again struggled to say. Dartsmoth readjusted his grip and pulled upwards again. Soleil's shriek was long and continuous this time, and she was now in far too much pain to speak again.

"STOP!"

"That's up to you!"

"PLE-HEASE!"

Caeldori was breaking down. Aside from that, she had to shout just to be heard over Soleil's crying. Dartsmoth smiled wider. "It's getting loose! It's coming out sure as a wristy from a bush slagger now! She'll have to drink her dinnies!"

"I GIVE UP!"

Dartsmoth was sure he'd broken Caeldori now, but he pretended not to hear her. With the same inhuman strength he'd used on Caeldori's prosthetic, Dartsmoth tore Soleil's tooth from her gums, sending her into a fit of crying and shrieking. He smiled wider than ever as he held up the bloodied molar. "Well. One down… about thirty more to go!" Dartsmoth reached towards Soleil's mouth again, and Caeldori lost it.

" _ **NOOOOOO**_!" She tried with all of her strength to rise to her feet, but she only succeeded in knocking her chair over. The Pegasus Knight was crying profusely now. She didn't even care about her own safety anymore. All she cared about was sparing Soleil any further agony. "I GIVE UP! I'll… I'll tell you anything! Just please, _please_ don't hurt her anymore!"

Dartsmoth righted Caeldori's chair. "Tell you what. She's not much of a threat to the machine by herself. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll let her go."

"You're lying." She snarled, choking back her tears.

"Maybe you don't think I'm ridgy-didge, but surely you reckon I _will_ hurt her again if you don't talk. The odds aren't in your favor, but it's better than a ham sandwich."

"... what?!"

"Just tell me where your friends are!"

Caeldori looked down to her feet. "I don't know."

"Not the answer I want to hear!"

"I DON'T KNOW, BUT-" Caeldori took a deep breath. "But I know where they might have gone. We used to have a safehouse with my grandmother, but it was lost. We haven't had anywhere else to go since then."

"What about that homestead I found you at?"

"That was an old friend of Chrom's. We were only staying there briefly, and we weren't sure where to go next. There this one place, though."

"CAELDORI! DON'T!" Soleil cried out through her moaning.

"Soleil's mother. She lives in a small village in northern Ylisse. I don't think they'd know to go there though." Caeldori looked back up to Dartsmoth. Her eyes didn't contain anger anymore, but instead a desperation for Dartsmoth to believe that she was telling the truth. "That's all I know. I swear."

Dartsmoth removed his sunglasses again. Caeldori winced at the sight, still unable to get used to those glowing eyes. "Here's what's going to happen. There's a number of things you can do with dark magic. Grimleal dags are coming up with new techniques all the time. It's a golden age of dark magic." Dartsmoth took a long breath from his cigarette before setting it down. "Anyways, I know a particularly useful little trick. I can peer into your very mind. See everything you've seen. Hear everything you've heard. Feel everything you've felt. I used it to talk to Cordelia over there, and I can use it to get the deadset intel from you. Thing is, it's hard to use on living people. They can actively resist it." Dartsmoth brought his hands to Caeldori's head, holding her still. "So here's where you uphold your end of the bargain. You hold real still, and you don't fight back no matter how deep I probe. If you do, well then I just won't be able to guarantee your mate's safety. Understand?" Caeldori slowly nodded, her breathing short and irregular.

"Just please don't hurt her."

"Good girl."

Dartsmoth jabbed his fingers into the side of Caeldori's head, and she immediately felt the effects of his strange spell. Dartsmoth sifted through her memories like they were files to be reviewed, and Caeldori was forced to relive every memory that Dartsmoth looked through. Virtually every interaction she had with Chrom was looked through, but Dartsmoth didn't stop there. He bored through her memories of Soleil and Ophelia. He clawed his way through her childhood with Cordelia. He poked his head into moments where she was alone, no matter how private they were. It was a torture like nothing Caeldori had ever endured. She felt violated, as if Dartsmoth had stripped her bare, and beyond that, as if he'd torn through her skin. She felt like her life had been rendered little more than a chapter in a story, as if her every moment served no purpose but to entertain an imaginary reader. It was beyond agonizing, but Caeldori didn't allow herself to resist. She clung to her desire to protect Soleil. The only thing giving her any kind of strength.

The experience probably didn't last more than a few minutes, but Caeldori was exhausted when Dartsmoth finally withdrew his hands. He quickly retrieved his cigarette. "Bloody hell. You've been a busy little shit, haven't you?"

Caeldori slowly looked back up. "I-I gave you what you wanted. Please. Let her go." Caeldori let her head drop down. It was everything she had to stay awake at this point.

Dartsmoth took a long breath from his cigarette before responding. "Of course." He turned to the recon soldier. "Take the mercenary to the slave markets. Young woman like that? They should take her."

Caeldori's fury returned to her. "WHAT?!"

"And bring me the receipt! I'll know if you're helping yourself to some of the profits!"

"You said you'd let her go!"

Dartsmoth gave a cheeky grin. "And I am letting her go! Ha!"

Caeldori almost roared at him in primal rage, and she had to bite her tongue before she could regain the concentration to speak. "YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

"Really?" Dartsmoth looked over as the recon soldier untied Soleil and forced her from the tent, Caeldori crying for her as she left. The Inquisitor then took her chair and sat down in front of Caeldori. "In case you haven't figured it out, I'm not exactly from here. I was born in a country called Wielklavia. It's on a continent about 15,000 kilometers away in the southern hemisphere. My people called it the Waking Moon, since it has kind of a crescent moon shape, but the Grimleal call it Sedna. It's a pisshole."

Caeldori shot daggers at him. "Why should I care?"

"I want you to know exactly what you're fighting for. See, Wielklavia was composed of nomadic tribes. Life in the Waking Moon was hard. Because of that, the tribes developed a very collectivistic culture. People weren't expected to think about themselves. Everyone had to give their lives for the greater good. For the whole. The only thing that mattered was the tribe. If you did anything to go against the tribe, you were labelled an unmutual. The tribes lived on the relatively fertile coasts, but unmutuals were exiled into the continent's desert interior. The Great Wielklavian Fuck All. See, unmutuals were never allowed to return. They even passed down their status to their children. I was born an unmutual, but not because of anything I did. My _grandparents_ were the ones to commit a crime. I was doomed to live in the middle of bloody woop woop because of crimes I had nothing to do with! Unmutuals were treated like second class citizens. Only a few merchants would ever deal with us. We were stereotyped as thieves, wanderers, and whores. The tribes told stories about how we practiced magic and charms. How we abducted children." Dartsmoth's voice softened, as if the Grimleal brute was actually taken back by the emotions returning to him. "Dad died when I was just an anklebiter. Mum tried, but things were hard. Bands of unmutuals didn't usually have children. In fact, most didn't survive in the desert more than a few generations. All the wandering bands of unmutuals were just staving off the inevitable. There weren't any other children my age, and no one had any love for me. We all banded together for survival, but we weren't family. The only thing we had in common was that we were all exiled. I had no direction in life. I didn't allow myself to dream. Society told me I was nothing… and I believed it." Dartsmoth sat up. "I was seventeen when the Grimleal came. The Grimleal usually took over continents by allying themselves with local groups. See, they didn't go to the tribes. They didn't go to the elite, because those in power don't want to change society. No, no they went to us because they knew we would want to overthrow the existing order. The Grimleal did something to us that no one had ever done before. They treated us like human beings. I happily served in their army, and thanks to them, I've made something of myself. The Grimleal gave me a chance that my society never did." Dartsmoth stood up and kicked the chair away. "It's the same all over. Every continent was ruled by a landed aristocracy that was built on the backs of the people. The Grimleal is a meritocracy. Your birth doesn't matter here. Everyone has the chance to prove themselves. To rise through society. You look at a lot of the Lord Lieutenants, and the Officers, and the Inquisitors, and you'll see that a lot of them were born as commoners. They never could have achieved anything in the old feudal regimes. You think that we're oppressive, and that you're fighting to save the world, but you're only trying to rebuild a system where a bunch of bludgers root us. You've got to be coming the raw prawn at me!"

"Huh?!"

"Let me put this in terms you'll understand. I've got no sympathy for you, rebel. None. Now you're going to stay here until we're ready to take you back to Altman. You may have briefly gotten away, but no one escapes The Rockpile in the end."

With nothing else she could do, Caeldori smiled and made one last act of defiance. "Except for all the other prisoners I helped escape."

Dartsmoth took another breath from his cigarette, though Caeldori could tell she'd gotten to him. "I hope Altman butchers you. By the way, he'll use you to help track down your mother. Whatever he does to you, she'll get it ten times worse."

* * *

Though the modern Grimleal had only ruled over the world for thirty years, the cult that preceded it had existed for a thousand years. So ancient was the old Grimleal that many of their temples had become lost by Validar's time, and the new Grimleal had to actively search for them. It was only through the knowledge of Grima itself that many of these structures could be located.

One of the most notable examples of these edifices was located in eastern Ferox. Though Validar himself had known of this temple, there were two obstacles that prevented the Grimleal of his time from gaining access to it. First, it was in Ferox, an ally of Ylisse. Second, the temple was sealed after the Fell Dragon's original defeat over a millenia ago, and the cult never had the resources to open the strange lock their predecessors had created. Only now, with the resources of a global empire at their control, could the Grimleal finally gain access to what their primogenitors had sealed away.

"это пиздец!" Semyonov cried as he inspected the temple's massive stone door. "Aren't we technically on the same side as the original Grimleal?! Why don't they want us inside?!"

"The Grimleal sealed it after the Fell Dragon's death." Hwal'chag responded as she stepped forward. "They didn't want the forces of the First Exalt to gain access to whatever's inside. Furthermore, they might have intended it as a test. They only wanted those powerful enough to get past the lock to be worthy of their ancient treasure."

"Well aren't you little miss paleontologist. That explains why you're so lacking in combat ability."

Hwal'chag drew a small flintlock pistol from a holster on her thigh and twirled it around by the trigger guard. She wasn't trying to threaten her comrade, but seemed to be simply fidgeting. "Project more, sweetie. You wish you had a unit like White Company under your command."

"My Talon Company is sent to quell rebellions too difficult for anyone else to handle. Your forces are never given such important assignments."

"Tell yourself they're important assignments if you want, but really the rest of us just don't want to do them. White Company is never sent on those kinds of missions because I don't piss of Yuri." Hwal'chag slung her pistol back into its holster. "And Semyonov? The word you were looking for was 'archaeologist'."

"Everyday I'm reminded of how ridiculous this language is."

Another SOG soldier stepped forward. This man was part of Semyonov's Talon (коготь) Company, identifiable by his green and khaki uniform and his kepi. He was a diminutive man, physically unassuming. The only thing notable about him was his eyes. They were glowing with a bright golden light, just like Dartsmoth's. "Yuri is contacting us." The man blinked, and his eyes became a normal brown. Semyonov sighed.

"He'd better actually have something important to tell us! If he's calling just to remind us of our duties again, I swear I'll put a bullet through his hologram!"

Hwal'chag smiled. Semyonov's frustrations were just amusing to her. "This is what I'm talking about when I say you keep pissing him off."

"Tell you what, rice farmer. When you meet the love of your life, and when you watch her be burned to death at the stake, and when you then have to take orders from one of the men responsible, then you can tell me not to be angry with him."

Semyonov, Hwal'chag, and the third man walked back to the temple entrance. Six figures stood waiting for them. Three of them wore the colors of Talon Company. The other three wore berets, like Hwal'chag. Their berets, however, were white, and the rest of their clothing was white and icy blue. Many of the individuals were visually distinctive, almost as much as the higher ranking SOG agents.

One of the Talon Company members wore a fairly standard green and khaki uniform and a kepi. The emblem of the SOG was stitched into the uniform. Other than that, there wasn't anything notable about the man save for that he didn't seem to have any weapons on him. Not even a pistol or a knife.

Beside the man was another member of Talon Company. This man had the same colors as the others, but his outfit was similar to Semyonov's. He even had a cape, though his was shorter. The man had an unusually long arquebus on his back, but there was otherwise little notable about him.

Beside him was a man almost robotic in appearance, such was the extent that his armor covered him. The man had metal heavy plating on much of his body, and what wasn't covered in plating was instead protected by thick leather that, strangely, seemed to be coated in clay, plaster, and alum. The man's head was entirely obscured by a strange helmet. Only the bottom of it was metal, and the rest was a dome made from curved, orange glass. The man could presumably see out, but the only thing that could be seen through the helmet was a vague outline of his head. Emblazoned on the front of the man's armor was a foreign word, "Друг".

Standing separately from the members of Talon Company were three representatives of Hwal'chag's White Company. The first man was unassuming beyond his stark white and icy blue uniform, except that his eyes were two different colors. The right one was a dark red, while the left one was the same blue as his clothing.

Beside him was a man covered head to toe in wasps. The insects crawled around his skin, even across his face, and yet the man never reacted. Even the man's clothing had dozen of holes torn in it, allowing the wasps to crawl in and out. Though the wasps freely wandered the man's body, they never once flew away. It was as if the man was commanding them to stay. The man's actual face was covered in wrapping, and only his eyes were visible.

The last individual was a woman wearing a white fur coat and pants, complete with a white fur hat. The icy blue on her outfit came from a strap keeping a long firearm on her back. The weapon looked like an arquebus at first glance, but it was thinner and made entirely of metal. The woman had her right arm extended, and her hand and forearm were covered by a thick, white gauntlet. Perched on her arm was a large eagle, about ninety centimeters long with a wingspan of just over two meters, that notably had a stark white head. The eagle was perfectly calm on the woman's arm, and she occasionally made kissing noises towards it.

Semyonov and Hwal'chag took positions in front of their respective forces, and Semyonov nodded back to the man whose eyes had been glowing. "Tarkov. Get this over with."

Tarkov drew a farakveða tome and fired a blast of energy into the air. Within a few seconds, a holographic figure of Yuri appeared. The SOG officer took a long breath from a lit cigarette before speaking to Semyonov and Hwal'chag. He paid no mind to their subordinates. "Report. Are Talon and White Companies in position?"

"Are Talon and White Companies in-" Semyonov threw his arms up in frustration. "We've been here ever since we picked up Tiki! Of course we're in position!"

"Stand by. Aversa's Inquisitor will be arriving shortly. In fact, his carriage should be pulling up any minute." Yuri turned his head just slightly to look at Tarkov. "Isn't that right, soldier?"

Tarkov's eyes glowed again. "Yes. I can feel him approaching."

Semyonov looked back and forth between the two. "Don't talk to my men!"

"They're my men, Semyonov. They're all my men."

"My ass! I built Talon Company myself! You only have your position in MAC (Military Assistance Command) because of Thomas. Once upon a time, military men had young women like that as playthings, but we live in a brave new world. Now little girls make once great men like into their boy toys. Оотебыа ныет ыаыеесав!"

"Is that so, Captain?" Semyonov tensed up and turned to see a second hologram of Thomas. "That's it. Tell us how you really feel."

"I-Inquisitor Thomas! You uh… heard that did you?" Semyonov regained his nerve. "Well I'm not taking it back!"

"Aw, Semyonov. Did Hwal'chag not put you down for your nap?"

Hwal'chag snickered, and Semyonov snapped and drew one of his pistols. "Oh, you think that's funny?!"

Hwal'chag's agents tensed up. The woman drew her metal firearm, the man with different eye colors drew a crossbow, and the man covered in wasps stuck his arms out. The wasps immediately began to swarm around him. Semyonov responded by drawing a second pistol and aiming it at him. The man in the orange helmet readied a strange, tubular weapon. The man with the long arquebus aimed it. Finally, Tarkov simply put his fingers to his head, and his eyes glowed again. The only one to not tense up was the Talon Company soldier without weapons. He simply shook his head.

"Stop!" Yuri commanded. His voice was stern and dismissive, as if he were speaking to children. "All of you. Stop."

"Come on, guys." Thomas responded. "This Inquisitor Aversa is sending is a big deal to her. One of her new favorites. Try not to make MAC-SOG look bad in front of him, okay?"

Yuri nodded. "They will obey, my lady." He turned to Semyonov and Hwal'chag. " ** _Right_**?"

"Sure. The rice farmer and I will be on our best behavior."

Thomas nodded and turned to Yuri. "I have other business to attend to with Anita. Yuri? You'll handle this?"

"Of course."

"One last thing, darls. Put out that ciggie? For me? You know it can't be good for your lungs."

"Of course, my lady."

Thomas smiled and kissed Yuri on the cheek, though it was purely for show as their holograms couldn't actually touch, and the two were nowhere near each other in reality. "Bye, Yuri."

"Goodbye." Semyonov said as he waved, his next words spoken softly. "Белоручка."

Thomas glared at him. "Yuri. Mind translating that for me?"

"He said you have pretty eyes, my lady."

"D'aw. What a sweetheart." Thomas responded sarcastically as her hologram flickered out.

"Damn Dartsmoth. He didn't warn me about how addictive these things could be." Yuri extinguished the cigarette and looked to Semyonov. "Talon Company will secure the interior of the temple once the door is open. White Company will patrol the perimeter."

"What?! Why do I have to go into the dark temple?"

"Because I'm ordering you to."

"Oh you care so much about orders! You didn't care back in Novoskr!"

"Novoskr is dead, Semyonov. Bury it."

"How can you say that about the motherland?!"

Hwal'chag turned as the man covered with wasps tapped her shoulder. A carriage had just pulled up, and a young, robed man carrying a heavy container stepped out. He wore the attire of an Inquisitor, but he seemed unusually young. Even younger than Thomas. Almost baby faced, in fact. The man walked right up to Hwal'chag, knowing exactly who was in charge. Hwal'chag smiled, drew the pistol on her other leg, and twirled it around with her left hand while extending her right arm. "Conrad, I presume?"

Conrad shook her hand. "Inquisitor Conrad. Any reason you have that gun out?"

"Just my way of passing the time."

"Ever hear the phrase, don't take out your gun unless you're willing to destroy something?"

"Guns and I have an understanding. The bullets go where I tell them to, and a gun is like an extension of my body. Crossbows too. Don't be such a baby." Hwal'chag transferred the gun to her right arm and twirled it with that hand, moving so quickly that Conrad couldn't quite track it. "So you're the Inquisitor Aversa sent. I heard you were involved in the plan to lure Chrom out of hiding. Operation Kingfish. I also heard that didn't go so well. Lord Lieutenant Courtney was badly wounded, and most of his lieutenants were killed."

"It's not my fault Courtney was too weak to stop him. My job was to find him, and I succeeded."

"So how'd you do it?"

"Chrom had eluded us for decades, but we created a psychological profile on him. From that, we devised a plan. We believed him to be hiding somewhere in Ylisse, so for years we went from town to town, village to village, staging a horrible murder of a young man and his daughter by the forces of the local Lord Lieutenant. We knew from his psychological profile that if Chrom saw it, he'd be driven to lash out at the local Grimleal forces, and we'd be able to find him. The plan worked perfectly, though we had no idea he'd be able to wipe out a Lord Lieutenant's entire power base." Conrad shrugged. "But again, I did what I was supposed to do. Aversa promoted me, and now I'm here." Conrad glanced over Hwal'chag's shoulder to see Semyonov and Yuri still arguing. "So this is Thomas' pet project."

"SOG."

"Never heard the name before."

"Never will." Hwal'chag snickered. "That's what Yuri always says."

"What exactly do you do?"

"I can't really tell you that, Conrad. Just know that our operations aren't exactly publicly known. You must be a rising star to be part of this operation. I think Aversa likes you. You might even be made part of her inner circle."

Conrad continued to look at Semyonov and Yuri. "Not sure I'd want that if these are the men I'd have to work with. What's their problem?"

"To be honest, Conrad, most of us don't get along that well." Hwal'chag holstered her pistol without even looking at it. She then drew the first one again and began twirling it. "Semyonov and Yuri really don't like each other, though I think it's largely one sided on Semyonov's part. They're both from an overseas country called Novoskr. It used to be a monarchy, but revolutionaries with help from the Grimleal overthrew the government and set up a puppet state. Semyonov used to work as an assassin for the royal family. He was close to them, especially with the eldest princess. Yuri used to be the Captain of the Royal Guard. When the revolution began, Yuri sided with the Grimleal. The royal family was executed, and Semyonov blames Yuri for it."

"I see. Yet, for all that, they're on the same side now?"

"Life's funny isn't it?"

The two looked over at Semyonov. "You had a duty to the royal family! You betrayed them all!"

"Don't lecture me on duty, boy. You weren't exactly loyal to the end. You have the Mark of Grima tattooed on your body, same as everyone else. You know better than to die for a worthless old world idea. I just had more foresight than you."

"The princess died because of you! Она была невиновной!"

Yuri understood everything Semyonov said, but he didn't respond in kind. He only spoke in his adopted tongue, symbolic in a way of his detachment to his homeland. "She was a carriage stop whore. You think you were her only lover?"

"ты забыл Наш язык?! Говорить Новоскр! пошёл в жопу!"

Hwal'chag stepped forward. "You two done? The Inquisitor is here, you know."

"Of course, rice farmer." Semyonov turned and walked towards the temple door. "I have little more to say to this excuse for a man. You either die a soldier, or you become a worthless politburo bureaucrat."

"If Talon Company wavers for even a second, Semyonov, Aversa will have your head. Hwal'chag, ensure that this is done."

Hwal'chag nodded as Yuri's hologram flickered away. She gritted her teeth as she watched Semyonov walk. "Yeah, I'm a rice farmer. I'm from Chon'sin, so I just spend my time in thigh high, parasite infested water farming rice while wearing a ridiculous hat because, well, that's just what I do! It's so funny! It just, it just never stops being funny!" She turned back to Conrad. "Err, sorry. I didn't mean to rant like that. Semyonov's just… hard to work with."

Conrad lifted up his container and made his way to the door. "Then we'd better get that door open. That way we can all get out of here."

The massive stone door that guarded the temple was in symbiosis with a metal lock. The system featured three "keyholes" of sorts, though each was of a strange and alien design. Even the metal itself was foreign, bright and gold like brass, but with a strength exceeding that of titanium. Conrad walked right up to the door and set down his container. Semyonov and Hwal'chag peered over his shoulder as he opened it. By some trick of dark magic, the interior of the container had been kept chilled, and both SOG agents stepped back as a brief burst of frigid air hit them. Conrad didn't hesitate, and he gestured to the contents. Inside was a vial of red liquid, a sword, and a large metal… thing. The two SOG hadn't the slightest notion of what it was.

"What are those?" Hwal'chag wondered.

Conrad drew the sword and held it out until Hwal'chag took it. "The Falchion. The Divine Weapon of Naga, but not the one wielded by the royal family of Ylisse. This was the Falchion given to Duma so that he could be killed when he degenerated into madness. Alm himself used it. It was taken by the 2nd army as they marched through Valm, and kept in the vaults of High Point." Conrad then took out the vial, which Semyonov took. "The blood of Nowi. Taken in copious amounts from her corpse after she was killed ten years ago." Finally, Conrad unfolded a handle on the metal contraption and manhandled it out.

Hwal'chag twirled what had once been Alm's blade around. "And that thing?"

"It's called a pulse generator. It's designed to emit a concentrated burst of holy magic over a wide area."

Hwal'chag stared at it. "Isn't that what tomes do?" She responded, her tone very dismissive.

"No. A tome has a specific purpose. This generator simply unleashes divine power."

"Why?!"

"The engineers believed that it can essentially 'overload' light magic tomes and healing staves, making them useless. As for right now, it'll help us with the door."

Semyonov looked over the three objects. "The Blood of a Divine Dragon, the Body of a Divine Dragon, and the Life Force of a Divine Dragon. The three things required to open the temple door."

Conrad fiddled with the pulse generator. "So you have heard of the legends?"

"We're not grunt soldiers. It's our job to know things."

"Yes. It is said that the ancient Grimleal created a lock that requires these three things for the temple. The Falchion, made from Naga's tooth, is the body. The holy magic from the pulse generator is the life force. The blood is… well that one's obvious. Hwal'chag, Semyonov, go ahead."

Hwal'chag shrugged and inserted the Falchion into a notch on the lock. Semyonov inspected the lock before finally deciding to open the vial and simply dump the blood on the lock. They both turned to Conrad, and he readied the machine. Hwal'chag looked warily at the door, noticing Nowi's blood sliding to the ground without having any noticeable effect on the door. "Is this supposed to happen?"

"Now we just need to activate this."

"But how does that contain the life force of a Divine Dragon?"

"It has to do with the power source."

"The power source?"

"Let's just say it has to do with your earlier capture of Tiki."

Hwal'chag and Semyonov both exchanged glances. "It came from her?"

"You'll know more in time. Bernitz-Heimeroth will make the official announcement soon enough." Conrad pulled a switch, and the machine audibly powered up.

"Is that thing dangerous?!"

Conrad shrugged. "I guess we'll find out together."

The machine let out a deafening noise, and the air around it was distorted, but nothing seemed to happen to anyone present. Within seconds, however, bright, glowing lines appeared on the metal lining of the door, and the ancient construction slid open. Stagnant air that hadn't been connected to the rest of the atmosphere in a millennia wafted outwards, and the three Grimleal agents looked uneasily at the rather ominous blackness that now awaited them. "Well look at that." Hwal'chag chimed in. "That door hasn't opened in a thousand years, but I guess we got the magic touch."

Conrad deactivated the pulse generator. "Or it's because we were prepared. Because we've worked to gather the resources for three decades. It can't be said that the Grimleal doesn't have foresight."

"But… what a strange lock. Why would the ancient Grimleal make a lock revolving around Divine Dragons, and how could they have built it?"

"That's one of the things we're here to find out. Captain Semyonov?"

Semyonov did a double take back to the temple. "I'm not going in there!"

"Yuri ordered you to." Hwal'chag reminded him. Semyonov approached her until the two were almost touching.

"Well Yuri's not here, now is he?"

Hwal'chag wasn't in intimidated. She took out a gold coin, but not a modern Grimleal gold coin. This one seemed to be from the old Halidom of Ylisse. She maneuvered it through her fingers, responding to Semyonov's attempt to intimidate her with a cheeky smile. "Why don't we flip a coin for it?"

Semyonov squinted at it. "Very well." He gestured for Tarkov to come over, and the two Talon Company agents conversed quietly. "So what's it going to be?"

Tarkov's eyes glowed. "If the coin lands on a face… it will be heads."

Semyonov smiled and turned back to Hwal'chag. The Captain of White Company was now standing by the soldier with two eye colors, but Semyonov paid him no mind. "Alright. I pick heads."

"Heads it is." Hwal'chag flipped the coin into the air, and the eyes of the man beside her glowed with a bright golden light. To Semyonov's frustration, the coin stuck itself in the ground on its side.

"What?! Give me the damn thing!" Semyonov seized the coin and flipped it into the air. The man by Hwal'chag once again had glowing eyes, and the coin landed on its side. "Tarkov!" Semyonov said as he turned to his subordinate. "You said it would be heads!"

"I did say if it _landed on its face_ it would be heads."

Semyonov glared at the man by Hwal'chag, who smiled back. "That only happened because of him!"

Hwal'chag shrugged. "You used your guy."

Semyonov shook his head. "Fine. I didn't want to stay out here anyways."

Conrad nodded his head as Semyonov gestured to his Talon Company agents.

"Remember. Your objective is to secure the interior. We don't want any surprises waiting for our dedicated archaeology teams."

"Of course. Tarkov! Valeriy! Cvitko! Radikov! вперед! НАША СОЛИДАРНОСТЬ СОКРУШИТ Их!"

Tarkov cast a spell to provide light as Talon Company descended into the ancient structure, but it was proven unnecessary as artificial sources of light activated whenever the men passed by. The light wasn't anything like what a candle would produce. It was as bright as the sun itself, but somehow felt stagnant. Compared to the sun's rays, it was like the optical equivalent of comparing water from the sea to water from a drainage ditch. The Talon Company soldier with the long arquebus studied the metal devices producing the light, but Semyonov had little patience for it. "Лейтенант Radikov! Бери́сь дру́жно, не бу́дет гру́зно. Теперь сделайте свою работу!"

Radikov turned back, but he took his time admiring the stonework of the temple. Though over a thousand years old, the masonry showed almost no signs of wear. If not for the stagnant air, one would think the building new. Beyond that, there were features of the construction that Radikov didn't understand. More of the strange, golden metal lined the walls, and the lights themselves seemed to have a mind of their own. They turned on automatically as the men walked by, but shut off when they passed. Radikov inspected the walls for several seconds, but he finally turned back. "да." Semyonov's second in command muttered under his breath. Like Yuri, Radikov had more readily adopted the language of the Ylissean continent. "It's just… there's something here. An intelligence."

"Что?" Semyonov called back.

"I mean… Есть что-то-"

A loud, mechanical noise could be heard emanating from the walls. It was like something metal machinery would produce, yet it came out of stone. The SOG drew their weapons and put their backs to each other. Semyonov turned to the unarmed man and the heavily armored man in the orange helmet. "Cvitko? Valeriy?"

"мы это слышим." Cvitko responded. Unlike his comrades, Cvitko's attitude was relaxed, and he didn't even raise his fists.

Valeriy waved his tubular weapon around. "Но откуда?!"

A blue, humanoid holographic projection materialized in front of the men. The man it depicted stood over three meters in height, and he looked down at the SOG with a curious expression. Radikov was the first to notice it. "сука блять!"

"That language." The figure responded. "I don't recognize it, and it doesn't seem to have any connection to the languages of my time. Tell me, can you comprehend what I'm saying?"

Semyonov stepped forward. "I can."

"Are you from another continent?"

"We are."

The man smiled. "Interesting. It seems human civilization is slowly advancing if regular travel between overseas continents is possible. Now tell me, are you some kind of foreign auxiliary? A slave soldier? Are you part of an advisory force sent to this continent?"

Semyonov didn't take the focus on his background well. "What the hell even are you?!"

"What _am_ I? You are currently speaking to an artificial intelligence construct."

"An… artificial intelligence?"

"Yes. A self regulating dark magic matrix sustaining the neural patterns of a human being. As for _who_ I am, I was created to emulate Forneus, the Alchemist Of Thabes." The construct seemed to smile. "Or rather, the Mad Alchemist of Thabes."

Semyonov lowered his gun. "Thabes. The ancient civilization?"

"Yes. The Serene Republic of Thabes. The most advanced human civilization of its time. Even the Divine Dragons feared our might. Judging by the technology you have on your person now, your current civilization seems to be nothing like what we once were."

Semyonov looked to his men, making sure they were seeing the same thing he was. "Look, I don't know a whole lot about the history of this bumfuck continent, but I thought Thabes collapsed long before the First Exalt's time."

"I do not know about this 'First Exalt', but I believe I understand your confusion. I recognize the symbol on your headwear. The Mark of Grima. I have seen it once before. Emblazoned proudly on the clothing of your predecessors. The ones who gained access to this installation, only to seal it away once more. You thought this place was built by the Grimleal, but they were only transient. Thabes built this place."

"This… isn't a Grimleal temple?! For a thousand years the crazy cultists have been trying to get in here, but you're telling me they had nothing to do with this place?"

"Not quite. Allow me to tell you of the man I am an echo of. Forneus was a brilliant alchemist. His advancements in science and dark magic propelled Thabes to the height of its power, and he was revered in his day, that is until he devised a project that would end human suffering forever. The Senate feared what they did not understand, and they called him mad." Forneus' echo looked around, as if it were personally frustrated with the events it chronicled. "But human ignorance alone was not the cause. The Divine Dragons feared the power of Thabes, and the Dragon Duma threatened the senate if Forneus was not controlled. The Council acquiesced to Duma's demands, and had many of Forneus' installations shut down. Duma himself created the lock you encountered on the door. Forneus had no choice but to leave, but he created me in secret to ensure that the knowledge contained here would never be lost."

"In other words… you're a glorified janitor?"

"Fool. The constructions of Thabes are beyond anything your primitive civilization could build. They need not be maintained. Forneus dedicated himself completely to the betterment of humanity. Even if he was forced to abandon this installation, he would never allow his discoveries to be erased by the apathetic march of time. I am the culmination of that knowledge. That is why I was made! That is why the earlier incarnation of this Grimleal came here."

"They knew Thabes built this place?"

"Beyond that. They knew of Grima's connection to Thabes. I have little doubt that the Experiment itself lead them here."

Semyonov's eyes widened. If there was one thing about Ylissean history that had been made clear to him, it was the power of the Fell Dragon. Few members of the Grimleal would realistically even see Grima, but _every_ one of them was made to respect its will. Semyonov himself had endured being around the Hierophant personally, and any mention of Grima now made him stand on edge. Furthermore, the echo's language was strange to him. "Experiment?!"

"They wanted the knowledge I have, to further understand yet another creation of Forneus. I may have been one of his first children, but I was not his heir. After all, I am but an echo of his intelligence, but the Experiment became something far greater."

"Greater?"

"In his life, Forneus was obsessed with two things. The resurrection of the dead, and the creation of a perfect intelligence. With the Experiment he accomplished both, and it grew and grew until he realized it would become something beyond any human. Beyond even any dragon. I know only what Forneus did when he created me, and the Experiment was but a fetus at the time, but even then Forneus knew of its potential. With what I know about the being you call Grima, I'm not surprised it had such an impact on the world. A millennia ago, the Grimleal dedicated itself fully to it. Even now, it seems Grima has its followers. If your alien tongue is any indication, it seems that all of humanity, even across such vast distances, has been brought under its control."

Semyonov did a double take to his men, who were as confused as he was. "You're honestly claiming that Forneus created Grima?! That Grima came from Thabes?!"

"Where do you think it came from?"

"It's a _god_! It doesn't _come_ from anywhere!"

"It's a living thing. All life comes from somewhere. It is simple evolution. The strong survive, and the weak perish. All life has evolutionary ancestors, but so rarely do the ancestors themselves survive. They are replaced. You can see it on a micro level with the relationship parents have with their offspring. Living things have children designed to supplant them. You give them time and resources, and they don't give it back. You are made weaker for it, all so that they can become more than you were. You do it so that your species can continue, and so that your genes live on. Reproduction is a necessary paradox in life. Living things must focus on their own survival, but they must also be selfless in the creation of new life. Their children, the species that will one day evolve from them, may one day make it impossible for them to survive, but they do it to continue life. All living things walk on the corpses of their ancestors, and they in turn will one day be wiped out by new life. Such is evolution."

"Evolution? Genes? What?!"

"Allow me to use an example. The Divine Dragons like Duma feared humanity because they saw the end of their race in us, yet Dragons like Naga and Medeus chose to guide the growth of human civilization so that we could supplant them. Forneus himself came to fear the Experiment because he saw the end of humanity in it, and yet he realized that it could become far more than humanity could ever be. Compared to humanity, the Dragons were more powerful, longer lived, and had knowledge beyond our comprehension, and yet their race died out, and ours came to dominate the world. We took the world from them." The hologram became very serious. "And now Grima will take the world from us. Such is evolution."

Semyonov turned to Radikov. "The academics are going to have a damn field day with this thing."

* * *

Bernitz-Heimeroth stood on an elevated platform temporarily constructed in front of a decrepit windmill, abandoned ever since Grima's Blight had destroyed the fertile soil in the area. The nobleman turned engineer wore a full set of plate armor, and every centimeter of his skin was covered. Even the eye holes on the helmet were very small, and a visor extended over the forehead to ensure no sunlight entered his eyes directly. The armor grew deathly hot in the day, and Bernitz-Heimeroth hated it, but he would never take it off. That would be certain death.

"Gentlemen." Bernitz-Heimeroth stood by five other Grimleal engineers. He turned to a man beside him, and the engineer handed him a glowing, cylindrical metal device. The core of the metal object glowed with a bright light, and a thin mesh of brass covered it. Bernitz-Heimeroth gripped the item carefully. "As you may have heard, the Voice Of Naga has finally been brought to justice for her role in the insurgency of thirty years prior. Once, she was worshipped for her connection to Naga and her power. They say the Divine Dragons chose to help humanity, but they hoarded their power from us. Imagine if that power were made available to our civilization." Bernitz-Heimeroth held the device up. "I hold now more energy than humanity has produced in the past several thousand years. The power of a god in the palm of our hands. Observe now, a small taste of this power."

Bernitz-Heimeroth handed the battery to a subordinate, and the engineer descended the platform and inserted it into the machine. The windmill's blades began to turn, and within minutes the blades were spinning rapidly enough to shake the entire structure, forcing the crowd to take cover from the winds. The engineer removed the battery, and the crowd erupted into applause as soon as they could manage to stand up. It wasn't a polite kind of applause either. They were genuinely impressed. What once took the power of the atmosphere itself could now be done with a handheld device.

Bernitz-Heimeroth nodded as an astounded bureaucrat from High Point raised his hand. "What exactly are these batteries, Director?"

"For thirty years we have prepared for Tiki's capture. A machine of my design, The Pommel, was created to extract her raw divine power. We store it in these batteries. The possibilities are endless. I believe that civilizations are defined by the amount of energy they produce. With these batteries at our disposal, we can usher in a new era of technological advancement. That battery could easily keep that windmill spinning for _years_. Think of what we could power."

"These batteries come from the war criminal? They're made from her divine power?"

"Anything can be quantified. The holy energy of Naga now serves humanity directly."

"How many could Tiki produce?"

"I have no way of knowing exactly. If I had to guess, I would say _tens of thousands_."

"And is the machine killing her?"

"Do not attribute human qualities to her. She is beyond any of us." Bernitz-Heimeroth turned as one of his engineers approached him, uninterested in continuing the conversation. "And she isn't worth your sympathy."

The man standing in front of Bernitz-Heimeroth now was middle aged, short, and fairly meek in appearance. He looked of Chon'sin descent, but he actually hailed from another continent entirely. Already an adult when he immigrated, and unable to speak a word of the Ylissean and Valmese language, the man was able to rise through the ranks of the academic elite through sheer merit. As a living tribute to the Grimleal's willingness to recruit people of varying backgrounds, the man had been made Bernitz-Heimeroth's successor as Head Engineer of Weapons Development when the former was given a position that served the Fell Dragon more directly. "Director Heimeroth." The engineer said courteously.

"Director Xiao." Bernitz-Heimeroth responded.

"Allow me to congratulate you on the success of The Pommel. Project: Excalibur is proceeding as planned." Xiao shifted around, his eyes focused towards the ground. "So what about The Hilt?"

"Your shipment of batteries is being sent as promised, Xiao. I've little need to hoard them. Your V1 project can proceed smoothly."

Xiao didn't react with relief. Rather, he returned an inquisitive expression. "Exactly how many batteries exist?"

"Over a thousand of the smaller models, and several dozen of the more specialized batteries."

"Excuse me?! You said tens of thousands would be made before the machine drained her. At this rate she'll only last a few months."

Bernitz-Heimeroth turned to the assembled bureaucrats and officers, glaring at them through his helmet. "I feel it is best if Aversa's masses are kept unaware of The Pommel's true capacity. I really have no way of knowing how many batteries she'll produce, but I would estimate millions."

"Millions?!"

"But keep that information to yourself, Xiao. Remember what I told you about The Light. Zoe trusted you." Bernitz-Heimeroth leaned forward. "Remember where your loyalties lie. We serve the High Inquisitor, but we also serve humanity itself."

"O-of course."

Bernitz-Heimeroth walked towards the other engineers, and Xiao looked back to the windmill. The blades had only now stopped completely. "I only hope Tiki lives to see our new world. Naga always did want her to help humanity. Naga always did fear what would happen if she lost control of her power, but now it will create something beautiful."

* * *

Ascension stood tall as her frigate, the _Reclamation's Tithe_ , thundered its way down the eastern coast of Ylisse. Ascension's mission was visit several Grimleal army forts along the coastline and use Black Authority to seize their materials and even personnel. Many of Gangrel's agents would not accept this, and as such Ascension's flotilla was well armed. The men and women assembled in front of her were fully equipped for a landing operation, and they stood ready as Ascension paced back and forth speaking to them. "When we joined the Grimleal, we took an oath."

"Regardless of our station." They all repeated. "All without exception."

"To be upheld on the blood of our fathers and mothers. On the blood of our sons and daughters."

"Even under pain of torture! Even to our dying breath!"

"Those who would break this oath are heretics! Infidels! Unbelievers! They deserve neither pity, sympathy, nor mercy, and even now they turn our brothers and sisters against us and abuse the mercy of Lord Grima."

"They will be crushed beneath our feet!"

"As we continue our march along the path of Grima! Forward warriors, and fear not pain nor death!"

Ascension looked off to the distance to get a good look at the army fort her ship was preparing to dock with. She turned back and nodded to Captain Crespo, and he eagerly waved his hands towards the back of the ship. Four heavy mortars on the _Reclamation's Tithe's_ aftercastle opened fire on the fort. Their payload consisted of cast iron shells filled with gunpowder that exploded when a fuse burned out, and the shells were specially designed so that the hot gases produced by firing ignited said fuse. The entire ship rattled slightly as the weapons discharged their ammunition, and a horrible whistling noise could be heard as the shells streaked their way across the sky, shattering the tranquility of the sea air. The mortar rounds exploded just in front of the Grimleal fort, raining shrapnel on the walls. It was unlikely that anyone inside was injured by the attack, but no one would have been oblivious to it. Deacon Sentzke made his way through the cheering and roaring crowd of soldiers to speak with Ascension directly. "What in Grima's name are you doing?!"

"Just making our presence known, Deacon."

"By shooting at them?!" Sentzke cried.

"Yes." His distant relative replied bluntly. "They need to understand the paradigm of these negotiations. We will appropriate what the High Inquisitor feels is necessary, and they will not stand in our way."

"Look they may not be loyal to the High Inquisitor, but they're still Grimleal! They still serve the Fell Dragon just like us! Please try to do this peacefully! No one has to die here!"

"Of course, Deacon." Ascension replied, though she was more interested in inspecting the throwing axes on her person. "We will give them the chance to serve in our mission of glorious conversion and intercession. Of course, if they refuse Grima's will, then we have no choice but to enforce the High Inquisitor's order."

Sentzke looked around nervously as Ascension's soldiers prepared to leave the ship. They readied their weapons and psyched themselves up. No one looked like they were planning to negotiate. "Just please promise me you'll try to keep things peaceful?"

"Of course, Deacon. Now go wait in the ship's hold. I wouldn't want a stray bullet to strike you if you stayed on the deck."

"But you just said-"

"Go!"

"Yeah, Deacon!" Crespo mumbled through a scimitar he was holding in his teeth. He holstered the two flintlock pistols he'd been preparing and took his sword by the blade, shoving the hilt into Sentzke's chest. "We know how squeamish you can be when it comes to these things. Now why don't you run along and let the adults do their work."

Sentzke looked back to Ascension, but it was clear she wouldn't change her mind on this. He thought about begging for diplomacy one last time, but the constant sounds of sword rattling and guns being loaded behind him told him enough about how pointless this would be. The Deacon nodded and slowly made his way back through the crowd, ignoring the mocking calls of the soldiers as he passed by.

The _Reclamation's Tithe_ was originally built as a standard warship, but Ascension had heavily modified it since Aversa had given it to her. Towards the back of the ship's lower deck was a meditation room, and a statue of the Fell Dragon served as the centerpiece of the sanctuary. Sentzke knelt down in front of the figure, holding his arms to his side and bowing his head. "Lord Grima, have mercy. May your countenance be bestowed unto this unworthy mortal. May you bless me and keep me. May you shine your light down upon me, and be gracious to me. May all the faithful find solace in your guidance, and let our bestial and savage race find clarity in your will. Glory to you Grima. Glory to the Grimleal. Glory to the Hierophant. Glory to the Emperor, and especially to the High Inquisitor. Glory to Ascension and her righteous crusade. Glory to all those from our homeland who had the foresight to join her auxiliary forces. Glory to all who walk the path. I believe in one Lord, the Father, the Almighty, lord of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen. I believe in the Fell Spirit, the Lord, the giver of enlightenment, who is worshiped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets. I believe in one holy Church. I acknowledge my eternal fealty for the forgiveness of my sins. I look for the unworlding of life, and the salvation of the world to come. I believe in the glory of the Fell Dragon's light, and the eternal continuance that all who walk the path will know. I cast aside the heresy of Naga and Tiki. Duma and Mila. I cast aside the false heroes of the First Exalt, Chrom, and Lucina. I repent for the insurgency of thirty years prior, and of the heresy that destroyed the Fell Dragon a millennia ago. I pray for forgiveness. That my race be saved through your mercy. I believe that you will come to judge the faithful, and your kingdom will have no end. Holy, holy, holy. Heaven and Earth are full of your glory. Blessed is he that comes in the name of the lord. Grant us mercy. Grant us peace." Sentzke looked up the statue. "Hear the prayer of this lowly Deacon."

Sentzke was quiet for awhile, as if he were building up the courage to speak with the statue again. "I know that what I'm about to ask may seem like a condemnation of your followers, but I seek guidance. Surely Ascension and her righteous crusade is justified in her actions. Heretics do have to be stopped after all. It's just… she's so violent. The faithful walk the path to find salvation for all humanity, but she so easily defers to fighting. Heretics should be saved, not murdered! Right? I… I don't know if what I'm doing is right anymore. I have devoted my life to spreading your glory, but I don't always feel that Ascension's actions are righteous. By being a part of her bloodlust… I just don't know that I'm serving humanity anymore. I… I wanted to help people. That's why I became Deacon. Ascension she's…" Sentzke shook his head. "I am faltering in my station. Please, Lord Grima, give me some kind of sign. Can Ascension still be guided towards a path of clarity and conversion, or am I out of line for questioning her? I need to know how I must walk the path!"

Following the eventual end of his prayer, Sentzke had about an hour to himself in the ship's lower deck before he could hear footsteps above him. He hurried out to meet the ships's crew. If Sentzke had allowed himself to hope there could've been a peaceful solution, it would have been dashed at the visible signs of battle on the soldiers. Really, Sentzke wasn't surprised at all. He knew Ascension too well. The Deacon stood up straight and tried to suppress the queasy feeling in his stomach as his commander stepped forward, her body red with blood. Ascension herself had some cuts on her arms and legs, but if a rather large splatter on her abdomen was any indication, most of the blood wasn't hers. Sentzke couldn't hide the disappointment on his face, and Ascension responded to the disapproval with a silent snarl. "Get ready to move, Deacon. Our work here is concluded."

Sentzke took a deep breath, determined to at least say something before his fear of Ascension sapped him of his determination. "Did you even try?"

"They did not immediately surrender to the authority of the High Inquisitor. So as per Black Authority, we wiped them out."

"But did you give them a chance?!"

"Are you questioning my authority?!"

Sentzke backed away. "N-no. No, holy warrior. I-I only wish to express my concern that-"

"You know I value your services as Deacon, Sentzke, but your opinion on military matters means very little."

"But this didn't have to be a military matter! If you go in guns blazing, demanding that they immediately prostrate themselves before you, then you'll only encourage them to resist! How can they be willing to negotiate if you open up with hostility?!"

"There isn't supposed to be negotiation, Sentzke! They accept the High Inquisitor's will, or they die."

Sentzke hung his head. "How many?"

"What?"

" _How many_? How many Grimleal soldiers, servants of Lord Grima just like us, died because you didn't think they respected the High Inquisitor?!"

Ascension shrugged. "A few dozen. I didn't really count. It matters not. The material resources of this fort can now serve us in our task, and they are more than enough to have made this battle worthwhile. Now get ready to move, Deacon. We have more military installations to visit." Ascension waved towards a soldier behind her. "But there is one last thing to address first. A single soldier did survive the battle. We found her hiding in a drainage tunnel. Normally I wouldn't reward such cowardice with continued survival, but this one is young."

"Young?"

Sentzke turned at the sound of grunting and whimpering to see one of Ascension's soldiers forcing a young girl forward. She wore the uniform of an army soldier, but the Deacon still couldn't believe his eyes. She was no older than thirteen or fourteen years old. "This is the survivor, Sentzke. The one soldier who did not take up arms against us." Ascension said as the man pushed the girl forward, almost knocking her over.

"Soldier? H-how did she even join? This is a child!"

"Her youth is an advantage, Sentzke. She is still open minded. Now, Deacon, fulfill your purpose. Convert her. She can join our crew, but I will not have heretics on my ship."

Ascension and her men brushed past Sentzke, leaving him alone with his new disciple. The girl in front of him seemed terrified of her surroundings, but even if she weren't she'd still have little to say to the portly, middle aged man in front of her. "Uh… hey." The girl brought her eyes to Sentzke's, but she didn't say anything. She just shivered, trying not to whimper. Sentzke could only nervously scratch the back of his head in response. "Uh, forgive me, Lord Grima, but it's going to take me awhile to figure this one out."

* * *

 **A Field Outside Northtown, South Valmese Administrative Zone**

"Corriveau, we have to do SOMETHING."

"What do you propose we do?"

"I... I dunno…"

"Erm. W-what?" As her eyes slowly opened, and her mind slowly regained consciousness, the young woman sprawled along the grassy field could begin to make out two figures in front of her. Both were women, though their height varied. One was short and wore a long dress. The other was fairly tall, and she wore several pieces of plate armor over her clothing. The two looked down at the woman as her eyes opened further, and they both gave warm smiles.

"I see you're awake now." The woman said.

"Hey there!"

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand." The woman brushed her chin length navy blue hair aside and held out her hand, giving an inviting expression as she did. The stranger she found obliged. "You all right?"

"Y-yes." The woman was still a bit groggy, but things were becoming more clear to her now. "Thank you, Corriveau."

Corriveau smiled, and the woman took a great deal of comfort in her blue eyes. Corriveau was clearly a soldier of some kind, as evidenced by the sword at her side and the Mark of Grima emblazoned on her clothing. Plate armor protected her right shoulder, but her left arm was entirely bare. The woman noticed Corriveau had a strange birthmark there. An almost completely straight line. "Ah, then you know who I am."

The woman squinted. She felt like she'd known Corriveau from somewhere. At the very least, this didn't feel anything like a first meeting. "No, actually. I... It's strange... Your name, it just...came to me…"

"...Hmm, how curious. Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?"

"Oh! Of course." The woman's mind fogged, and it only grew worse the more she tried to focus. "My name is... It's... Hmm?"

"...You don't remember your own name?"

"I'm not sure if... I'm sorry, but where am I, exactly?"

"Hey, I've heard of this! It's called amnesia!" The shorter woman chimed in.

"It's called a load of pegasus dung, Lisia." The three turned as a heavily armored man stepped forward. "We're to believe you remember the Captain's name, but not your own?"

The woman noticed this man wasn't nearly as inviting as the others, and she felt very nervous. "B-But it's the truth!"

Corriveau stepped closer to the woman. " ...What if it IS true, Ferguson? We can't just leave her here, alone and confused. What sort of Rangers would we be then?"

"Just the same, Captain. I must emphasize caution. Rangers may lead the way, but we don't put our trust into people that could be working against the state."

"Hmm. Maybe you're right."

The woman briefly looked worried, as she had no idea what she'd do if she was left there. Ferguson also briefly looked alarmed. "Though… it's not my place to question you, sir. Perhaps you should decide."

"Yes." Corriveau seemed to make up her mind. "We'll take her to the nearby town to sort things out."

"Wait just one moment. Do I have a say in this?"

"Peace, friend—I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town. Now come."

The woman didn't protest any further. There was something about Corriveau. She seemed to grow closer to the Captain with every word she said, and she already trusted her as if they'd known each other for years. Beyond that, the grogginess in the woman's brain seemed to fade only when Corriveau was talking. It was as if this was how things were supposed to go. The woman smiled back and followed the "Rangers" as they left for the nearby settlement of Northtown.

In the distance, a lone figure stood watching the four as they departed. This man wore a full set of plate armor that left no part of him exposed, and a sword was sheathed by his side. There was little notable about it. It seemed to be a normal steel sword, save for that it was completely identical to Corriveau's sword. The most unsettling thing about the man himself was his headwear. His face was covered by a silver mask that seemed to be perfectly smooth. It was beyond anything a human blacksmith could ever forge. It was also reflective, like chrome. Lastly, the man's right eye, or where the eye would be if the mask wasn't entirely featureless, had a glowing Mark of Naga. "So. The story begins anew. There is no room for individual human will now. The threads of prophecy start here."

(As of this update, this story is now one year old! Thank you everyone for sticking with it! Feel free to let me know if you have any questions on the fic so far.)


	43. The Axe

"Oh, father." Lucina said with a smile on her face. "I hope I'll be as great a warrior as you one day."

"Father…" Brady's eyes shifted around, and he couldn't meet Chrom's gaze. "I understand that we must fight to protect this world, but does there come a point where the violence becomes excessive?"

"Oh, Chrom." Maribelle said, tilting her head in a coyish manner reserved for her husband. "It's alright if you're nervous about being the Exalt. You're a soldier in your mind, and your actions say the same."

Lissa gave a warm smile. "I admit it sometimes gets a little scary out there, but I know I'll be safe as long as you're here to fight the bad guys with me!"

Emmeryn smiled at Chrom, though her expression was more solemn. "Oh, Chrom. I see so much of our father in you."

Gangrel gave a very twisted smile. "You and I aren't so different. We both come from very different backgrounds, but we were both made who we were through war. Our place in history comes through war!"

Walhart nodded to Chrom. "You may have defeated me, and you may have destroyed my empire, but I hold no hatred towards you. You were the stronger warrior. Your will was superior to mine, and I was not strong enough to resist your might."

Caracalla nodded to his son. "You couldn't protect Ylisse in the end, boy, but I knew you would become a strong warrior. Ever since I saw you pick up the Falchion."

Robin appeared last, but his expression was nervous. Afraid. "Chrom… what did you do? T-to our friends? Our family? What have you become?!"

Images of Chrom fighting countless foes throughout his life began to play, and they grew more severe until they were all that could be seen. The voice of Chrom's younger self began to speak. "Don't you get it? You're the lord of the story! You're supposed to fight! You like it don't you? The adventure. The fighting. Your life has been defined by war. Everything you've done has involved it! Even your relationships have been characterized by war. You met your wife because she was a soldier in your army, not because of any arranged marriage. Your sisters and children saw you as a great warrior. You were never going to be a nobleman in Ylisstol. You chose to become a warrior, even as Ylisse became pacifistic under your sister. You chose to pick up a sword again when the grandchildren of the women you killed asked for help. Even now, you continue to fight! Time and time again, you choose to go into battle. It's what makes you who you are. You enjoy war! You don't know what else to do with your life. You enjoy the killing!"

"NOOO _OAA_ ** _UUGGH_**!" Chrom shot up, his body drenched in sweat. He looked around to see that he was now in bed back at the inn room. He took deep breaths, as if he'd been running, and it was a great effort just to set his feet on the floor.

"Chrom?" Chrom tried to stand as he heard Gaius' voice coming through the door, though he immediately felt light headed. "Was that you? Is everything alright?" The door opened, and Gaius stepped in to see Chrom vomit. "Sounds like someone's awake-EW! Ew, no! Come on, man! Gross!" Gaius watched Chrom with an alarmed expression as he sat back on the bed. "Are you okay?!"

"No." Chrom responded, his voice cracking. "I'm not. I just had the worst dreams, at least I think they were dreams." He immediately shot back to his feet. "Where are Soleil and Caeldori?!"

"I don't know?"

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

"What?! I know as much as you do about them!"

"Wait…" Chrom looked down, a sadness taking them. "They were never here… were they?"

"You… thought they were here?"

Chrom buried his face in his hands, knowing how severe his nightmares were becoming. "Gaius, I saw them. They came here, and we rescued them from the Grimleal! Then… Soleil attacked me."

"Attacked you?"

"Then I started having the strangest dream. A horrible dream." Chrom looked back up. "I just don't understand when I fell asleep. Obviously Soleil and Caeldori weren't really here, but I don't even remember falling asleep."

"Well, you were unconscious after I hit you in the forehead. Again, I'm sorry about that."

"Forehead? No, you hit me in the nose."

Gaius looked at him curiously. "Nnnooo? I hit you in the forehead. You were instantly knocked out. That's probably when you started having these dreams."

"What? I-I was hit in the nose! You broke it! I saw Pheros to heal it!"

"Chrom… none of that happened. Your nose is fine."

"What?!" Chrom pulled on his nose. Surely it would still hurt if it had been broken earlier, even after the application of a healing staff, but he didn't feel anything. "I-I didn't lose consciousness! You hit me in the nose, and we talked and… none of that happened?!"

Gaius slowly shook his head, clearly disturbed by what he was hearing. "Chrom, listen to me. I hit you in the forehead, and you immediately lost consciousness."

Chrom ran his hands along the side of his head. "Oh gods. I didn't pass out! I swear it was like I was hit in the nose. I can't, I don't know what's real anymore! We had a whole conversation, Gaius! Are you saying that never happened?!"

"Chrom… are you okay?"

Chrom took deep breaths for several seconds, trying to pull himself back together. When he finally did respond, his voice was even more shaky than before. "No, Gaius." He repeated. "I-I'm not."

"Chrom…" Gaius put on a smile, unsure of how else to diffuse the situation. "L-look. Let's just get something to eat. How about that? This place serves breakfast."

Chrom looked back to Gaius, and his old friend's cheerful look brought him some peace. "A-alright. Yeah." He looked back to the vomit on the floor and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, I'm sorry about that. I guess I'd better clean it up."

"Why? The staff will get it."

"Gaius! There's no need to be a slob!"

"Pssh. Now you sound just like Cordelia. Come on. Let's get some food."

Chrom and Gaius met Pheros by a small table at the inn's dining area. Chrom could smell breakfast being made, but the staff wasn't finished yet. Pheros had tea ready at the table, and she nodded as he approached. "Well, look who's finally conscious. I was wondering if your friend here had killed you."

Gaius sat down. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?! Anyways, is this tea paid for?"

"Help yourselves."

Chrom and Gaius sat down. Chrom was about to reach for his own cup, hoping that it would help to ease his mind, but he couldn't help but notice Gaius putting teaspoon after teaspoon of honey in his drink. Pheros noticed too, and she couldn't hold her tongue forever. "So… you want anymore tea to go with your honey?"

"Leave me alone, crazy lady. I haven't had anything sweet in a long time."

"You're like a child in a middle aged man's body."

"I have a medical condition!"

"Oh I bet you have medical conditions alright."

"Not like that! I'll have you know I'm perfectly healthy."

Pheros shook her head. "You know, Gaius, I'd heard of you when I was serving Walhart. He made his generals study the urban legends of the Ylissean continent, and I heard the tales of 'Sticky fingers' Gaius. The thief who would work for sweets. Have you honestly been eating like this for the past thirty years?"

"Yep." Gaius said with a smile, as he finally finished scooping honey in his tea.

"Your teeth alone must be horrible."

"Ridiculous! I've never even had a cavity! I mean, sure, sometimes my teeth hurt. Sometimes I can feel it in my gums when I first put something sugary in my mouth. I've never had a cavity though!"

"Gaius… that sensitivity could be from cavities."

"Nonsense! A cavity is when the tooth falls out completely. That's why they call it a cavity! Because there's, you know, a cavity where the tooth used to be. Duh! I still have all my teeth."

"... you know what? I'm not even going to touch that. You're middle aged. You're beyond saving."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chrom couldn't help but snicker at the exchange, and Gaius glared at him. "Don't laugh at that."

"S-sorry." Chrom finally gave a genuine smile, his mind taken off his hallucinations. "But that was kind of funny."

"Oh yeah? Don't be so quick to laugh at my health, Blue. You don't look so great these days. Hell, you're starting to look like Validar."

Chrom perked up. "What?!"

"You're getting the wrinkles. Saggy skin."

"L-like Validar?! You take that back!"

"Oh, doesn't feel so good does it? You've even got a beard going on, though yours has no color in it."

Chrom ran his hands along his chin, having forgotten about his beard until just then. "Huh. Right. I shaved it off for Cordelia… but…" Chrom looked back into his tea. "I guess that doesn't apply anymore."

"Well it is pretty scraggly. Get rid of that thing. There's a reason almost none of the male Shepherds had facial hair thirty years ago."

"Well hey now. You don't have to listen to him." Pheros' eyes fell to the table, and she bit her lip slightly. "I think it looks nice on you. I always did think some facial hair on a man was handsome."

"Oh… heh. Thanks."

Gaius' annoyance with Chrom became less light hearted, especially as his eyes fell to the scar Pheros had cut through Chrom's birthmark. "Yeesh, Chrom. She says your beard doesn't look like crap, so suddenly she's like family? You're too trusting."

"Family?" Chrom suddenly stood up. "Where's Henry?"

"Junior? What made you think of him?"

"He is my brother-in-law."

"Oh yeah. He did marry your sister didn't he. He's still sleeping. He's been sleeping a lot actually."

"A classic sign of depression." Pheros chimed in.

"I think he's taking Blondie's death pretty hard. He still hasn't said a word to us."

"Gods." Chrom almost whispered. "I think we should wake him up."

"Ah, let him sleep."

"I don't want him to miss breakfast."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Blue."

Chrom squinted at Gaius. "Are you afraid of him?"

"Junior?" Gaius shrugged. "A little. He always was… off. He used to joke about blowing people apart and casting time reversal curses on enemies so he could make them die over and over. Now we learn he helped the Arch Surg brainwash people, and they let him practice curses on prisoners. Are you not afraid of him?"

"N-no." Chrom straightened his posture. "No. He's my brother-in-law."

"And as we all know, in laws always get along so well."

"I'm going to get him."

"Hold on, Chrom." Pheros added. "He's just trying to process what happened to his granddaughter. He needs time to himself."

"What would you know about him?"

"Recall that Henry was an Arch Surg junior officer. I've worked with him before. Just give it time. We can save him some food." Chrom sat back down, only for Pheros to get out of her seat. "I believe our food should be about ready. One last thing. Gaius, if we could talk after breakfast?"

Gaius just gave her a confused look. "Uh… sure thing?"

Pheros nodded. "And I'd like to speak privately with you, Chrom. If you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, of course."

Walhart's former general walked off, and Chrom turned to see Gaius making a finger gun at her. "It'd be that easy. Pow! Buried in the desert."

"Gaius!"

"That woman is not our friend, Blue. Remember that she's on the same side as Keith. You know, the crazy boy that dresses like your _daughter_! Beyond that, I've heard countless stories about the Arch Surg. Let's just say they're not nice. They aren't heroic just because they're fighting the Grimleal."

"Gaius, I don't want to start anything here!"

"You know what your problem is? You're just a big softie with the ladies. If we were dealing with Cervantes or Algol, you'd be as skeptical as me, but a passably attractive wench gives you the smallest compliment and suddenly it's okay that she cut a SCAR through the Mark of Naga on your arm!"

"That has nothing to do with anything! I just don't want to fight, okay?! Besides, what do you about women?"

"Hey come on now, Blue. I've been a real ladies man in the past."

"You… you were unfaithful to Tharja?"

"W-what? Hell no. She'd have burned me alive. I meant before, and a little after." Gaius leaned in. "Heh, let's just say there's another reason they called me sticky fingers Gaius."

Gaius looked at Chrom expectedly, but he just got a blank stare in return. "I don't get it."

"You don't… hell. I thought that was clever." Gaius' expression became more serious. "I'm just worried about you."

Chrom didn't respond with an argument, but instead disarmed Gaius with a warm smile. "Gaius, I really am glad you're by my side now. With everyone else… gone… I don't know where I'd be without you. As violent as it was, I'm so glad you were there at Cordelia's homestead. Still, I just don't want to fight anymore."

"What do you mean anymore?"

"I…" Chrom thought back to his nightmares. His hallucinations. "Gaius… war has defined my entire life. It's how I met you. It's how I met Maribelle. It's how I met all the Shepherds. My father wanted me to fight like he did, and war characterized my relationship with my sisters. Even my own children came before me as warriors. It's everything that I am." Chrom shook his head. "And I don't think that I've gone down the right path in life. I wonder if I ever had a choice. Was I destined to fight? Like some kind of character in a story?"

Gaius' eyes widened. "Uh… yeesh. That's some heavy stuff, Blue. Look, I'm glad you're thinking about these kinds of things. Part of why I hated you so much when we met again was because I thought you'd gotten away with what you did to us. Then I realized how much it was eating you, and it helped remind me that it wasn't your fault. I'm glad you're thinking about what happened, but you need to move on. You can't let your guilt ruin you."

"That's the thing, Gaius. This isn't guilt. I'm trying to find what I should be." Chrom became very determined, and Gaius had to lean back to feel comfortable again. "I'll tell you this. I will never be who I was again. The Shepherds did a lot of good, and we fought for a good cause, but my younger self was too accepting of death. Too willing to kill anyone in his way. He was part of an endless cycle of warfare, and he thought he could somehow end it with more killing. I see now what Emmeryn wanted. When I was younger, I thought I was different from Walhart, and Gangrel, and my father, and all those other conquerors because I believed I was doing the right thing. Because I cared about those who fought by my side. But… I was just a hair away from what they were, and I killed just as they did. Emmeryn was the only one who was different. She didn't become part of the cycle."

"Well, I'm no historian, but Emmeryn's way didn't work. Diplomacy didn't work on Gangrel, and it won't work on Gangrel and Aversa now. It definitely won't work on the Fell Dragon. You can't hug it out with Grima. If there's a lesson to be learned from the Shepherds, it's that you need a middle ground between Emmeryn and your father."

"Maybe."

Pheros returned with a tray. There wasn't much food on it, but Chrom was grateful for anything. Pheros set it down on the table, but she didn't let Chrom and Gaius help themselves yet. "Hold on. Before we start eating." Chrom could've sworn Pheros almost smiled, but she suppressed it. "I have a gift for you, Chrom."

"A gift?"

Gaius eyed her nervously. "What kind of gift?"

"Since Chrom has chosen to abandon the Falchion, I figured he needed a weapon to defend himself. So I visited the local blacksmith."

Chrom smiled. "You bought me a weapon. Pheros, you didn't have to do that."

"You need one. I'm happy to help." Again Pheros almost snickered, and this time both Chrom and Gaius noticed. "Close your eyes, and I'll have it right out."

Gaius scowled. "Close our eyes?"

"I want it to be a surprise."

Gaius looked back to Chrom, but he just shrugged. Both men chose to close their eyes, and Pheros returned about a minute later. Chrom opened his eyes at the sound of Gaius laughing, and the sight that awaited him was one of the downright silliest things he'd seen in a long time. In Pheros' hand, in place of her normal healing staff, was a battle axe. It wasn't a small weapon either, as it was as tall as Pheros and almost as tall as Chrom himself. As imposing as that sounds, the weapon was anything but. Sculpted into the shining white weapon was a stylized rabbit and egg, and four carrots, colored orange and green, stuck out from the blade. Chrom couldn't tell if this was a weapon or a joke. "What in the name of Naga is that?!"

"BWAHAHAHA!" Gaius pounded his fist on the table. "I'm dead! I'm dying over here!" He pointed at Chrom, who wasn't nearly as amused. "It's not exactly the Falchion is it?! Crazy lady has a sense of humor after all!"

Chrom looked to Pheros, then back to the weapon. "W-what? Is this a weapon?"

Pheros tried to keep a straight face, but the sight of Chrom's confusion, annoyance, and even embarrassment brought a smile to her. "Of course it's a weapon, and it's yours now. The blacksmith called it the Carrot Axe."

Gaius almost choked on his tea. "The Carrot Axe! HA!"

Chrom had manners and behavior fitting of a royal drilled into his head since he was a child, and it was almost an instinct to smile and thank Pheros for the gift, but he couldn't bring himself to do it easily. He just gave an awkward, disingenuous grin. It only made Pheros smile more. "T-thank you… Pheros."

"Y- *snicker* you're welcome, Exalt. Now let's all have some breakfast, shall we. After our conversations, if you'd be so kind, we can head for The Saltworks."

Chrom eyed the weapon as Pheros leaned it against a wall. "Oh I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about."

* * *

Following a small breakfast, Pheros and Gaius talked for only a minute before he left her room. Chrom walked in afterwards, Carrot Axe in his arms, to find Pheros getting ready for the trip back. "Exalt." She spoke without turning. "Thank you for coming." She motioned for Chrom to sit at a table, and smiled as she looked to see him setting the weapon against a wall. "So? How do you like it?"

"Well… it's a weapon. I guess I did need one. W-why-" Chrom scratched the back of his head. He tried to find the right words, but gave up and said exactly what he was feeling. "Why that thing?"

Pheros smiled as she sat down by Chrom, but her voice was serious. "It may seem like a joke, Chrom, but that was the best weapon I could get you. The Grimleal restrict who can make military grade weapons, and blacksmiths in small towns like this aren't usually allowed to get the permits. This blacksmith makes weapons like that as a loophole. He calls them decorations, but that axe is real enough."

"Oh." Chrom decided Pheros had no reason to lie to him, and she didn't seem like she was known for a sense of humor. "Thank you then. I really did need a weapon."

Pheros stared at Chrom, her look inquisitive. She studied his expressions very carefully. "Why did you abandon the Falchion, Chrom?"

Chrom leaned back in the chair and returned a stern look. "Let's make a deal. I'll answer your questions with complete honesty if you'll answer mine."

"Alright."

"I gave up the Falchion because it represents a legacy of death. It seems like my family is defined by fighting. We all know Marth created the United Kingdom of Archanea, but only the details of his fight with Medeus are known. Anri is known for fighting against Medeus. The First Exalt created Ylisse, but nobody knows what he did other than that he defeated Grima. My father went down as a conqueror. I spent my life fighting. Lucina, gods, she was never anything besides a warrior. I just feel like that sword represented a legacy of violence, and I, I couldn't be a part of it anymore. I can't be what I was." Chrom pounded his fist on the table with more force than he intended. "I feel like you took me to Shepherd's Folly because you wanted me to be who I was. You thought I would just swear revenge and help you kill your way to a better world, but I can't do that. I can't be part of this cycle of endless war anymore. That's why I gave it up. What we tried to do thirty years ago didn't work. Something has to change."

Pheros nodded in the way that people did to show they were paying attention. "You want to change things?"

"I think I've always wanted that. When I was younger, I didn't agree with Emmeryn's pacifistic vision, but I didn't want to be like my father either. Especially after I became Exalt, I think I believed myself to be a middle ground… but I failed. I don't, I don't know what I should be, but I can't be like I was anymore. I see now that I wasn't that different from the warriors of the past. I wasn't following in Emmeryn's legacy by sticking my chin in the air and saying that I was killing to bring peace to the world. Making war to bring peace. What a horrible gods-damned lie."

"What you call a lie was the basis of Walhart's Empire."

"Walhart failed, Pheros. You need to let it go."

"He failed because of you-" Pheros caught herself. "I'm not going to argue about this."

"Well, my turn then. Why did you want me to see Shepherd's Folly?"

"You weren't wrong. I wanted to inspire you to fight again by reminding you of what you lost, but I also wanted you to move past your guilt."

"Huh?"

"I was a priestess. I handled a lot of confessions. I _know_ when a man is being consumed by guilt. Chrom, I believe that you tried to suppress your guilt for thirty years, but it started coming back to you when you met Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori. When you saw Cordelia, Gaius, and Henry again. I thought taking you there would help you move past it, and I'm not sure that I'm wrong. I think these nightmares and hallucinations are because your brain isn't able to suppress those traumatic feelings anymore, and that's a good thing. We just have to help you get through this. Gaius told me about what you told him. Chrom…" Pheros hesitated for a second, wondering if this was the most appropriate thing to do, but she eventually reached out and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Chrom didn't think it was awkward, or even threatening. It was absolutely surreal that the two could interact like this when Pheros had been torturing him to the brink of death not long ago. "I want you to tell me about any strange dreams or hallucinations you've had. Anything that seemed odd."

"You're going to sit there and tell me you care?"

"I do care." Pheros said, her expression completely genuine. "We're not friends, and we don't see eye to eye, but I care that the Arch Surg gets a man like you to help them, and I'm worried about you. I'm worried about your state of mind. Please, I'll listen. I promise."

Chrom couldn't help but trust Pheros, even though the more rational parts of him told him there was no reason to. More than that, part of him desperately wanted to talk about the things he'd seen. To make sense of it all. Chrom told Pheros everything. He told him about his alcohol induced hallucinations in Nowi Falls, and how he'd heard the voices of Ophelia, Soleil, Caeldori, and Cordelia in his head. He told her about his dreams of his father. Of how he saw Gangrel and E-13 at Isaiah's homestead, and his chess game with the Grimleal. Finally he told her of the butterfly he saw at Shepherd's Folly, and of everything he'd seen the previous day. Pheros wasn't lying. She listened intently to everything Chrom said. He somehow felt himself getting closer to Pheros as he spoke, and this only made him talk more and more. Twenty minutes had gone by without either realizing it. Pheros placed her hand on his shoulder again after he finished, and she took out several pieces of paper from a nearby bag. "Chrom, thank you for sharing all that with me."

"T-thank you for listening." Chrom found himself taking deep breaths, unsure whether he was tired or emotionally moved that Pheros really paid attention. "I feel better."

"Chrom, I believe you're suffering from something called psychosis."

Chrom's easiness around Pheros instantly evaporated. "WHAT?! Y-you think I'm psychotic? That I'm crazy?!"

"The word psychotic has a bad connotation. People think it means violent, or insane, but it only means that you are suffering from psychosis. You're not crazy. In fact, it's exceedingly rare that anyone suffers from psychosis because of legitimate mental illness. It's usually a symptom. I think the trip to Shepherd's Folly caused a lot of mental trauma for you, and now your mind is trying to come to terms with it."

"So what exactly is psychosis?"

"It's a condition of the mind that results in difficulties determining what is real and what is not. Symptoms may include false beliefs and seeing or hearing things that others do not see or hear." Pheros arranged her papers and took out a pen and ink container. "Now, I want to ask you a series of questions. You can refuse to answer them if you want, but please be honest with me."

"Okay."

Pheros prepared to write. "Why did you create the Shepherds? I want you to try to answer that in the mindset of your younger self. When you were a teenager, what made you create the Shepherds?"

Chrom thought about it. "I didn't believe in Emmeryn's pacifism. I respected her, I did, but I thought Ylisse needed more soldiers to protect its people."

"The people, or the borders?"

"The people."

"And these brigands and outlaws that you killed. You didn't think of helping them? You didn't think Emmeryn should have enacted social reforms? You thought they needed to be killed?"

"I-I guess."

"Do you still think that?"

"I… I don't know."

"You don't know? Or you don't want to answer?"

"I really don't know."

Pheros made note of that. "When you were leader of the Shepherds, before you met Robin, how did you decide what the Shepherds would do in battle? How did you plan your moves?"

"I… I let the Shepherds do what they wanted. There were only a handful of us back then."

Pheros made note of that. "From what I've learned about you, it seems you didn't always make time for the Shepherds on a personal level, while Robin did. You didn't talk to Cordelia much, for example, but you did speak with Sumia. You spent more time with Gaius and Olivia then you did with people who were there from the start, like Stahl and Miriel. You personally recruited Henry and Tharja into your army, but then never talked to them afterwards."

"How do you-"

"Just answer the question. Why is this?"

"I don't-" Chrom sighed. "I took people for granted, I think. I just got so used to everyone following me that I assumed they would always fight by my side."

"If you could go back, would you change that?"

"I would."

Pheros made note of that. "How often did you spend money when you lead the Shepherds?"

"Only when necessary. To be honest, I let Robin handle a lot of the financial decisions."

"How often do you spend money now?"

"Almost never."

Pheros made note of that. "How sexually active are you? I understand you were close to Cordelia in Nowi Falls? How often was there activity?"

"W-what? I-I am not talking about this!"

Pheros made note of that. "Would you say you loved her?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Did you love her more or less than your wife?"

"Not answering that!"

Pheros made note of that. "Now I'm going to ask you about some people you knew. How would you characterize your relationship with your mother?"

"I barely knew my mother, Pheros. She died when I was only four."

"How would you describe your relationship with her?"

"I really can't."

"How about your father then?"

"I didn't really know him either. I remember he was strict. I remember that I wanted his attention."

"If you could describe your relationship with him in one word, what would it be?"

"Uh-"

"The first word that comes to your mind."

Chrom thought about it. "Expectant."

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationship with your wife?"

"Maribelle?"

"Is that her name? Why do I have Maria written in my notes? Anyways, continue."

"I loved her. I mean, what do you want me to say? Am I supposed to talk about what we did together?"

"Anything you want to talk about."

"Well… I-I don't want to talk about this! We loved each other! That's enough!"

"What about Sully, Sumia, and Olivia?"

"Why them?"

"I understand you were close to them?"

"I… I suppose. Hell, I've known Sully since I was a child."

"Did you ever desire them?"

"Desire?!"

"It can be as simple as finding them pretty."

"I don't know-"

"Why Maribelle over them? Was it her noble lineage?"

"Not answering!"

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationship with Vaike?"

"Vaike?"

"I understand that most of the Shepherds that joined before you met Robin were knights and nobles, but Vaike was lower class. Why did you recruit him?"

"I don't care about his class. He was willing to fight for us. He believed in our cause. I used to compete with him, but I also respected him. I was glad he was with us."

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationship with Gaius?"

"I did spend time with him while we were in the Shepherds. I'd say he was my friend."

"Would you say you're closer to him now?"

"I… I would."

"He tried to murder you."

"I don't care."

"You don't care?!" Pheros said, her calm voice somewhat alarmed.

"No. His rage was justified, and I don't deserve to have friends like that with me now."

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationship with Frederick?"

"Frederick? He was one of my oldest friends. I trusted him completely, and I was glad to have his council. I was also sure that Lissa would be safe so long as he was around."

"He was your friend, or servant?"

"Friend."

"Don't act like you were equals. You could command him, and he never disobeyed."

"He was a knight! He wanted to serve, and he chose to fight with the Shepherds. I respected him. He was not a servant to me!"

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationship with Robin?"

Chrom took a second to respond. "My closest friend. He was the wind at my back and the sword at my side."

"Who would you say lead the Shepherds? Him or you?"

"I honestly never even thought like that. I trusted him to make battle plans, and he trusted me to lead. We weren't two officers leading an army. We were friends. More than that."

"You-" Pheros made a gesture with her hand that encouraged Chrom to finish her sentence, but he wasn't sure what she wanted. Pheros sighed and continued. "Would you even say that you loved him."

"Yes." Chrom responded. It wasn't a conscious thought. The word just rolled off his tongue. "He was like a brother. Maybe… more than that… somehow. Back then, I wasn't sure I could keep fighting without him. The Shepherds became so much more after he joined."

"This love for him, would you say it was… confusing?" Pheros thought about how to phrase it. "Did it bring out feelings at all like what you felt around your wife?"

"Huh?"

"Uh… let's just skip that one. Do you feel responsible for what happened to him? For him becoming the Hierophant?"

"Yes." Chrom responded. Once again, his response was automatic.

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationship with your sisters?"

Chrom thought. "Well, I worried a lot about Lissa. I was afraid she'd be hurt."

"From what you say about her, you don't seem to think of her as an equal. You think of her as a lesser being to be protected. Coddled."

"What?! I just wanted her to be safe! I was glad she was by my side, but I couldn't let anything happen to her."

Pheros made note of that. "What about Emmeryn?"

"I never agreed with her policies, but I loved her, and I never went against her directly. You know, as the years go by, I see her courage and wisdom more and more. Her vision for the world was beautiful. Mine…" Chrom's breathing became irregular. "I've become what she hated."

Pheros was briefly taken back by the response, but she regained her stoicism. "Do you feel responsible for what Gangrel did to her?"

"So much. I thought keeping her in the Shepherds would keep her safe, but it only ended up getting her killed. Oh, Emm, I keep failing you."

Pheros could tell this particular question was upsetting Chrom. She quickly made note of what Chrom said and moved on. "How would you characterize your relationship with your children?"

Chrom had to think about it. "What a strange relationship we had. They were already adults when I met them. I loved them. I did."

"Were you proud of what they became?"

"Of course I was proud of them."

"No. Not were you proud of them. Were you proud of what they became?"

"I…" Chrom looked down. "No. I would never want my children to have to live like that. Lucina and Brady, and all the other children, were younger than the rest of us, but they'd already seen more combat. Lucina… I loved her so much. She was one of the strongest and most courageous people I've ever met. Still, whenever she asked to train and looked at me with those hopeful eyes, I died a little inside. I could tell she just wanted to spend time with me, but she never thought to do anything else. Only train. She was, I think, the culmination of my family and its violent history. She was a woman honed for war, and little else. When it was all over, I wanted to spend time with her in other ways. I wanted to give her that peace she was fighting for. She cared so much about saving humanity, and giving her younger self a better life, but she never thought about her own life. Deep down, I don't think she thought of herself as my daughter. She was glad to be with me, but she also thought she'd get in the way of her younger self's life if she stayed. I think she was planning to leave when everything was over."

"And would you have let her?"

"She was a grown woman. She could have left, but gods. I would have begged her to stay."

"What about your son? Brady? You don't talk about him as much. Did you love Lucina more?"

"WHAT?!"

"Did you feel that Lucina was your daughter, and Brady was Maribelle's son?"

"Ridiculous! I loved them both! Of course I wanted Brady to stay too. I saw so much of his mother in him. I even saw his aunt in him. I… gods. Both of my children." Chrom couldn't look at Pheros anymore. "Taken from me."

Pheros made note of that. "How would you characterize your relationships with Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori?"

"Oh gods." Chrom shivered slightly. "I can't keep answering these."

"Just answer this."

"I loved them. Like I loved Lucina and Brady. I thought… I thought…"

"You thought they were a second chance."

"Yes. Heh." Chrom gave a morbid smile. "The granddaughters of those I failed, come to make me a hero again. A jaded, bitter old man, learning to care about the world again. Get ready for the ride of your life, Chrom. Heh. Makes quite the story, doesn't it?" Chrom looked back to Pheros, and even Walhart's former general was unsettled by his gaze. "Well life's not so forgiving."

"You blame yourself for what happened to them?"

"I wouldn't entertain the notion that anything else was responsible for a second. I failed them just like I've failed everyone that I've ever loved."

Pheros made note of that. "Well, we can stop there for today. Thank you for cooperating."

"Thank you for listening." Chrom continued to sit there as Pheros put away her papers and prepared her things for the trip. When she finally noticed him staring, she returned a curious, rather than annoyed glance, and this only encouraged Chrom to ask what was on his mind. "Pheros… I know you said we weren't friends, but do you hate me?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you hate me? As you did before?"

Pheros took a deep breath. "I… I hate everything you stood for, and I hate what you've done to the world. But… no. I don't hate you, Chrom. When I saw you again at Nowi Falls, it was everything I could not to strangle you, but now I see that you're a far more thoughtful and introspective man than I ever could have imagined. You're not a bad man, Chrom. Never let anyone tell you otherwise, and that includes yourself. From what you've told me, I realize that taking you to Shepherd's Folly was never going to inspire you by itself. You can't be filled with hatred of the Grimleal because you're too full of hatred for yourself."

Chrom shook his head. "I don't want to be full of hatred at all."

"Hmm."

Chrom stared at Pheros silently for a few seconds, but he spoke up as she prepared to go back to packing. "Pheros, I'm sorry about what happened at Nowi Falls."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when we fought? I told you that Walhart joined the Shepherds, and that he forgot about you."

Pheros' eye twitched. "Yes?"

"Pheros, I said that to anger you. However, it's true. Walhart really did join the Shepherds after we defeated him. He was with us until the end."

Pheros was visibly suppressing frustration, and Chrom could see it. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I know you think Walhart abandoned his dream when he joined us. That he was betraying everything you fought for. But… he wasn't. I didn't talk to Walhart much, but Robin told me about what he was like. Walhart followed us because he believed us to be the stronger warriors, and he wanted to learn from us. He wanted to be part of that strength. He wasn't a beaten man, Pheros. Walhart believed that your force of will gave you strength, and that those with power could define their own values. He joined the Shepherds because he cared about stopping the Grimleal, but also because he believed us to be superior. He joined because he still believed in his dream."

Pheros' eyes slowly lit up as she thought about what she was hearing. "Y-yes. Yes! Walhart believed that he was powerful because of his dedication to creating a better world. When you defeated him… he would have wanted to learn from you. He… he didn't abandon his dream." Pheros smiled. In fact, Chrom didn't think he'd ever seen her give more than a smirk. A tear even ran down her eye.

"You're crying?"

Pheros wiped the tear away, still smiling. "Heh. So I am. I'm sorry. It's just… all this time I thought Walhart gave up. Even as we kept his dream alive, and even as we continued to fight against the tyranny of gods, I thought Walhart joining the Shepherds meant he had abandoned everything we fought for. Now I realize he never did, and I feel thirty years of anger and resentment melting away. And… to know that you allowed him to fight by your side, even though he hadn't changed… that says a lot about you. Maybe your trusting nature didn't work with Gangrel and Aversa, but I see now why so many people have been willing to follow you. Thank you for telling me all this, Chrom."

"You're welcome."

Pheros nodded and prepared to leave, but she paused at the door. "One last thing. You were completely honest with me, so I'll be honest with you. I lied about the permits. The blacksmith had other weapons."

Chrom looked back to the Carrot Axe. "And you chose that one!"

Pheros smirked. "Enjoy it."

Chrom looked at her in exasperation as she walked off, but she didn't return. "I don't know if I'll ever understand that woman."


	44. The Mechanisms of Regime

Gaius had been waiting in front of the inn for over twenty minutes now, but still Chrom and Pheros hadn't come out. He turned at the sound of footsteps, about to complain about the wait, only to see Henry instead. Gaius had never really spoken to Henry much, but his smile and cheery demeanor were well known to all the Shepherds. Henry's hair now was messy and unkempt, and his robe was saggy and improperly put on. His expression was almost blank, and he only gave a small smile when he noticed Gaius. A far cry from the genuinely cheery expression he almost always carried. Gaius tried not show any signs of sadness himself, instead putting on a smile for his old ally. "Well look who's up! How's it going, Junior?" Henry just shrugged, and Gaius found himself in an awkward silence. More than that, he seemed to be enduring it alone, as Henry just continued to stare. As Gaius looked over him, he noticed a number of details on Henry's robe he hadn't before. Thirty years ago, Henry had six eyes on the collar representing the six eyes of the Fell Dragon. This design was common to Plegian dark mages. Even Robin had a similar design on his robes. Now however, Henry had different symbols on his collar. Six golden Marks of Naga, of all things, could be seen, but each one was surrounded by a wreath of wheat coming out of two gears on the top and bottom. The background of the mark was a small square divided into two horizontal stripes. The top was blood red. The bottom was a light blue. Not sure how else to break the silence, Gaius shrugged and decided to inquire about it. "So those symbols? Those are new right?"

Henry nodded.

"Do they represent the Arch Surg?"

Henry nodded.

"Yeah. I heard about them having a symbol with those colors, but I've never really seen it before. So… erm… did you like being with them?"

Henry shrugged.

"Ugh." Gaius muttered to himself. He tapped his foot and glanced around for a few seconds, but eventually decided that talking to Henry directly was a better way to end the silence. "It's killing me to see you like this, Junior. Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to Blondie… I mean, Ophelia. I know exactly what it's like to lose a child." Gaius' own voice started to choke up, but he powered through it. "Seeing how close you were to Ophelia though… it's like you lost two children." Henry looked down slightly, but his expression was otherwise static. "Hang in there, Junior. I know you'll get through this. Something's got to bring that smile back to your face, right?"

The two men turned at the sound of armored footsteps and startled murmurings behind them. A Grimleal Pacification Squad consisting of eight arquebus armed soldiers and a halberd equipped lieutenant made its way down the street. Pacification Squads, sometimes called "Pacifiers" as a pejorative, were dedicated policing units, and Gaius knew they wouldn't be in a small town unless they were investigating something. The lieutenant, a young woman with piercing green eyes, orange hair much like Gaius', and a rather severe case of freckles, held up a poster and commanded passersby to look at it. As she got closer, Gaius could make out what she kept repeating over and over. "Citizens! The Grimleal commands your attention! A suspicious sword was spotted in Shepherd's Folly the other day, and we believe its owner is a wanted criminal."

"Suspicious sword?!" Gaius said to himself, alarmed. "Chrom, you moron! I knew this would bite us!"

"Have you seen this man?" The lieutenant shouted whenever she held up the poster. She eventually turned towards Gaius, and he was able to make out the drawing. Though the picture was a little out of date, as it depicted Mercer's unkempt hair and beard, it was clear to Gaius that it was a wanted poster of Chrom. The lieutenant noticed Gaius staring at it from a distance, and she and her men approached. She firmly planted her halberd and pointed at him. "Hey! You two! Get over here! We want to talk to you!"

"Uh oh." Gaius turned back to Henry, and a smile crept across his face. "Wait a minute. Henry, you like killing people, right?"

Henry raised his hand, dark magic crackling between his fingers, and finally gave a real smile.

Chrom and Pheros were just about to leave when they heard the sounds of gunshots and spells outside, every shot and attack echoing through the stillness of the town. Though he hesitated for a moment, Chrom willed himself to take the Carrot Axe and brast outside to find an impromptu battle unfolding in the street. Henry had already slain a Pacification Unit, and Chrom turned just in time to see him unleash another blast of dark magic. The blast struck the man squarely in the chest, blowing him backwards. Steam could be seen rising off his skin as the body finally came to a rest. Two other Grimleal units responded by discharging their arquebuses at the dark mage, but the bullets deflected just millimeters off of Henry's skin. The same technique Dartsmoth had used. Another soldier lit the fuse of a grenade and prepared to throw it. "For the Fell Dragon!"

"The Fell Dragon can suck a turnip!" Gaius shouted as he fired at the man. The bullet struck him in the arm, causing him to drop the grenade as he shrieked in pain. The explosive went off a few seconds later, rending the man apart. Henry laughed in response, and a rather dark smile took Gaius. "Ha! I don't think I could do that again in a million years!"

But Chrom didn't share in the thrill of battle as his old allies did. Even though they were Grimleal, the three deaths in front of him chilled Chrom to his bones. Something had changed in him, and the warrior struggled not to shiver. Not to look on his friends with fear. Thirty years ago, Chrom would have already cut down a soldier himself, but human life had more sanctity to him now. "It's a warzone out here!"

"What an astute observation, Chrom." Pheros responded dryly. "And I thought Robin was the brains of the Shepherds."

Chrom raised the Carrot Axe. He wasn't entirely sure how to properly wield it, but he couldn't just stand there. "I have to stop this!"

Pheros raised her healing staff. "I think you could use a support unit."

Chrom always had a trusting nature, and he was especially willing to trust those who fought beside him in battle. As much time as he'd spent with Pheros recently, her willingness to help was what truly erased any uneasiness Chrom had around her. In time the battle would end, and Chrom would remember she was an officer in a dangerous organization with her own agenda, but for now the two were comrades in arms. Nodding towards her, Chrom stepped out into battle. Sprinting towards the nearest Pacification Unit, a young man trying to take aim at Gaius, Chrom put all his strength into a swing of his battle axe. The carrots sticking out of the axe's blade became a focus point for the kinetic energy in Chrom's swing, and so one of the carrots was easily able to penetrate the man's cuirass. The unit was thrown to the ground, blood trickling from his wound as Chrom withdrew the axe, but he still lived. In fact, he wasn't seriously hurt at all, but Chrom had no intention of finishing him. All that mattered was protecting Gaius and Henry. Beyond that, Chrom felt a need to minimize any further killing if he could.

Meanwhile, the Grimleal continued to fire at Henry, but he resisted their attacks until their arquebuses were expended. A dissonantly cheery grin taking his face, Henry prepared to counterattack, but the Grimleal lieutenant had made her way behind him and brought him down by striking the back of his head with the shaft of her halberd. Gaius saw and aimed his freshly reloaded arquebus. "Cheeky harlot!" He fell to one knee, steadied his breath, and prepared to fire, but the lieutenant threw her halberd to the ground and pulled out a sidearm as he did. Deciding he didn't like his chances, Gaius moved for cover and ducked behind a now abandoned carriage as the woman discharged her pistol. The shot embedded itself in the carriage, and Gaius prepared to fire back. A confident smile on his face, Gaius poked his head out, only to immediately duck back behind the carriage as another bullet hurtled by. "Aw what the hell! She fired twice without reloading! Not possible! I call Pegasus dung!"

The lieutenant fired three more rounds from her pistol, seemingly defying a nigh universal limitation that defined firearms. Though he wasn't entirely sure how they worked, Chrom thought every gun had to be reloaded before it could be fired again, but this woman's pistol seemed to be magic. Chrom did notice some kind of cylinder on the back of the gun that rotated with each shot fired, but all the woman did to fire again was pull back the gun's hammer. Still, Chrom didn't care about the danger of facing the woman's seemingly impossible sidearm. He only cared about Gaius' life. Without a second thought, he threw himself at the lieutenant, and he felt reassured as he could hear Pheros following behind him. Chrom tried not to make too much noise as he neared the woman, but the lieutenant heard him approach and spun around. Thankfully, she still had to pull back the hammer before she could fire again, and so Chrom was almost able to reach her before she could fire. Almost. With less than half a meter between them, the lieutenant was able to fire at Chrom, putting a bullet through his heart.

Time stopped. Chrom could still move, but no one else did. The lieutenant was still in front of Chrom, her pistol still aimed at him. Pheros was behind him, unmoving. Gaius and Henry were still where they were too. Chrom looked down to see a bullet wound in his chest, but there was only blood in the actual penetration point, and it didn't hurt. He wondered what could be happening for only an instant before it dawned on him. "Oh no. N-not here." Chrom turned at a flash of blue in the corner of his eye to see a butterfly flying by him, just like in Shepherd's Folly. "Not now."

Within seconds Chrom found himself surrounded by over a dozen of these butterflies, each one as blue as his hair was in his youth. Nothing else moved, and Chrom couldn't do anything but watch as they fluttered around, occasionally landing on the people present. One eventually landed on Chrom. Curious, he gently allowed it to crawl on his finger and held it up as the butterfly stayed there, only occasionally flapping its wings. Remembering how the vision ended in Shepherd's Folly, Chrom crushed it in his hand and was immediately blinded by a flash of white light.

Chrom found himself in an underground structure, illuminated only by torches. He felt the area was familiar, but he didn't recognize it until he saw the figure in front of him. At the sight of "his" blue armor and sword, Chrom immediately realized the memory he was reliving. This was Arena Ferox, and "Marth" was in front of him. Just like thirty two years ago. "W-what?! What is this?!" Marth didn't react. She just drew her Parallel Falchion and held it out towards her father, just as she'd done before. Chrom didn't react in kind this time. "I know who you are! I know your secret! Stop this!" Marth didn't listen. With it clear that Chrom wouldn't move, Marth charged at him. Chrom instinctively reached for his Falchion, but he tried to will himself not to draw it. "STOP IT!" Marth continued to sprint until she got close enough to leap into the air, spin around several times, and bring her sword down on him. Recognizing the move from the actual fight, Chrom knew he had no choice but to draw his sword now, and he barely managed to block as the weight of the blow came upon him. Chrom was almost knocked to his knees, but he managed to parry Marth's next strike. Just as what had happened almost one third of a century ago, and just as with Chrom's battles with E-13, father and daughter became locked in a bitter duel.

Chrom had always wondered why Lucina fought him at Arena Ferox, and he never really asked her directly. He figured that she'd thrown the fight to guarantee his victory. For all Chrom knew, Lon'qu, who would have been Basilio's champion if Marth hadn't defeated him, won in Lucina's timeline, and Lucina might have figured that this somehow contributed to Grima's rise. Chrom could tell Marth wasn't fighting as intensely as she could at Arena Ferox, and even when practicing with Lucina in his spare time Chrom could tell that she was holding back. Chrom had been training to use the Falchion since he was old enough to hold it, but Lucina had been _fighting_ to survive since she was old enough to hold it.

Chrom wasn't sure that was true now, as Marth fought bitterly against him. It was a struggle just to keep up with her blows, and Chrom's continued insistence that the fight was pointless did little to affect her. Chrom didn't even recognize her fighting style as entirely Lucina's. Was his mind making it up, or was this how Lucina fought when she truly intended to kill? She certainly never used it against him. Chrom knew he couldn't be on the defensive forever, and he reluctantly forced himself to counterattack instead of just parry. Chrom didn't want to hurt Marth at all, but she made it impossible for him fight defensively. When Chrom wavered for just an instant, Marth landed a glancing hit across his chest. The wound stung as badly as any real injury would have, and he began to fear what would happen if Marth struck him down. Would he die in real life? Leave Gaius and Henry alone? Soleil and Caeldori?

Thinking about them, and not about having to fight his own daughter, Chrom fought Marth more intensely, and butterflies began to surround the area as they did. The butterflies multiplied with every clash of the twin Falchions, and before long over a hundred filled the arena. Chrom could hear his daughter's voice in his head every time their swords clashed, and sometimes this happened so frequently that multiple sentences played out at once, all spoken by that same familiar voice.

"Let us fight with honor. May the best soldier win."

"Heh, never expected such youthful arrogance… we shall see who shames who."

"I challenge my fate!"

"One of you Deadlords has the Brand. I saw it. Was he of the exalted bloodline, then? I should very much like to face him. If he's at all like my father, then he must be a warrior worth my time."

"Wonderful! I just so happen to have two right here…"

"I understand I don't belong in this time. I'll not have myself become a burden."

"Can I ask a favor? I'd love you to go shopping with me sometime—my fashion sense is a little...absent."

"My father means everything to me. If anyone tries to harm him, then I would have no choice but to…"

"With every foe we have the heart to face... we take back our future!"

"I remember a little of a more peaceful time when I was very small. I pretended I was captain of my very own Junior Shepherds! Be kind to baby Lucina if she does such silly things. They...may be all she has."

"Father… whatever this was… it wasn't… your-"

Chrom grew more unhinged with every new butterfly. With every word of Lucina's that tunneled its way into his head. He just wanted it to be over, and rage drove his actions more and more as he desperately sought to end the fight. Without realizing it, Chrom's moves became too severe for Marth to follow, and what was intended to be a disarming strike ended with his divine blade cleaving through Marth's chest. She stopped moving and coughed up blood, and Chrom froze in terror. He couldn't bring himself to move until after she'd finally crumpled to the floor. Marth was still breathing, though with great difficulty, and Chrom threw himself to her side. Held her in his arms.

"NO! NO, damn it, why-why did you keep fighting?! WHY?! THERE WAS NO POINT! WHY?!"

"Why?" She responded weakly. Chrom tore off the butterfly mask, revealing Lucina's familiar eyes. There was no hatred in them. No anger. Lucina only seemed to feel contentment. "I don't… know anything else. War is… what I am. I've been fighting my whole life. A princess?" Lucina shook her head. "I don't know what that's like, but a warrior? I can do that. I-I'm not really your daughter. You could never watch me grow up. I was never going to inherit the throne. I don't want to get in the way of my younger self. Me? I'm just a warrior."

"No. N-no that's not true!"

Lucina gave a warm smile. "Oh, father. I've been waiting so long for this day. My whole life I've dreamed of seeing the man you were. Of fighting by your side. You're a wonderful man, Chrom. I-I'm so glad I could meet you, father. I… love you."

"Oh gods, Lucina. Nothing you said was true! You _are_ my daughter, and you're not a burden. You don't have to fight anymore! Please, please don't leave me again!"

"It's okay, father. There's only room for one Falchion. I see that now. I knew that it was possible Grima couldn't be stopped, but I am willing to devote my life to fighting it. I've spent my life as a warrior, so a warrior's death is fitting. Is this death? Is this what I've been running from? Heh, it's not so bad."

"Lucina… stop-"

"Will… anyone… remember me? Remember that… I tried?"

Chrom tried to hold her again, but a mass of butterflies poured from her wound, and they became so thick that he couldn't see her anymore. When they finally dissipated, the body was gone. Several butterflies remained, and again Chrom allowed one to land on his finger. Before he could even begin to process what had happened, the delicate creature morphed into a blow fly. Chrom looked up to see this had happened to all the butterflies, and the arena was now filled with the droning of their wings. Chrom tried to step away, but the Parallel Falchion embedded itself in his chest before he could. Instantly realizing what it meant, even as his chest burned with agonizing pain, Chrom turned as he fell to see E-13. The expression of rage on her face, an expression that the other Lucina had never had, made her identity certain.

"Good!" Gangrel laughed as he stepped out from behind his chief enforcer. "Oh I'm so proud of you, my trophy. You will go down as the Lucina people remember."

"No." Chrom tried to cry. "No!"

"Enough." Grima stood by Gangrel's side. The sight of Robin's body as the Hierophant was too much for Chrom to bear, and he hung his head. "Emperor, have him killed. Ensure that humanity is brought to the knee forever!"

"Of course, Lord Grima." Gangrel turned to E-13. "Do it." He gently caressed her cheek, which would have infuriated Chrom if he still had the concentration to pay attention. "Make me proud."

Without hesitation, E-13 stepped forward and raised her sword. Chrom looked up one last time. He swore he saw different visions. He saw Lucina when she was in the Shepherds. He saw her as Marth. He saw her in some kind of bridal gown. He even saw her as an infant. The last thing he saw was E-13 bringing her sword down.

"Gaargh!" Chrom found himself on the ground. He immediately shot to his feet and readied his Carrot Axe, only to realize that the battle had ended. The three Grimleal soldiers that had died were piled up by the side of the road, and five survivors, including the lieutenant, were tied up nearby. Henry stood over them, and the Grimleal seemed very wary of the dark mage. An eighth soldier was lying in the street. She was badly injured from what appeared to be a stab wound, but she still clung to life. Gaius looked over to Chrom and gave him an annoyed glance. "Well look who's back. Tired, Chrom? Decided you needed a little nap?"

"I'm… sorry. I don't know-" Chrom saw another flash of blue in the corner of his eye, and he realized several butterflies were flying around the area. Time didn't stop, but Chrom wasn't sure if even this was real. "Oh no. It's not over!"

Pheros gently placed her hand on Chrom's shoulder as she walked up, snapping him back to reality somewhat. "Chrom?" He turned to see a sympathetic look from her. "It happened again… didn't it?"

"I… I don't know what happened. I was shot in the heart, and then-"

"Shot in the heart?" Pheros pointed to blood on Chrom's shoulder. "You would have died if she shot you in the heart. She only hit you in the shoulder. The bullet passed through you, so I could use my healing staff. We would have had to cut it out if it embedded itself in your bone."

Gaius nodded. "It's not like in the old days when a healing staff could fix anything. Now you need a surgeon if a bullet or shrapnel gets inside of you, or you just have to walk it off." Gaius winced and looked down to his knee. "Oh, old wound got uppity just thinking about it. I, I don't recommend trying to walk it off."

"Well it's over now." Pheros nodded towards the captured Grimleal soldiers. "I figured we should try to interrogate them."

Chrom looked back over to the wounded soldier. She could only manage faint noises, and Gaius, Henry, and Pheros paid her little mind. They clearly didn't think she could be saved. "What about her?"

"She tried to attack you after you fell to the ground, but I stopped her. I don't think she'll make it."

"Would your healing staff work?"

Pheros squinted at him. "Healing staffs have limited uses. I'm not going to use it on a Grimleal soldier. You can finish her off if you're so concerned."

"Finish her off?"

"She's suffering, Chrom. You can choose to end it, but we're not wasting anymore time with her."

Chrom slowly approached the wounded soldier. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, but she didn't have the strength to do anything else. She'd been stripped of her weapons, and the implications of this bothered Chrom. Someone had interacted with her after she was injured, but they didn't care to help. Chrom slowly drew the Thundergrypp and pulled back the hammer, but he didn't aim it yet. The woman moaned and clutched her wound, now coated with dark red blood, but she also managed a few words. "W-wait… d-don't. Don't!"

Chrom thought about the severity of the wound. He'd never seen anyone survive anything like it without a healing staff or medicine, and the soldier might have already lost too much blood. He thought about how quick and painless a shot to the head or heart would have been. He thought about how the woman was a soldier in a regime. She was hardly innocent. He thought about all the horrible things the Grimleal had done, and how soldiers like her chose to be part of it. He thought of all these reasons, and he became more and more disgusted with himself with every one. As Chrom looked down at the woman, the butterflies returned to his field of view. For an instant, but a moment, Chrom briefly saw his daughter's body instead of the woman's. "No. I'm not doing this."

Pheros turned to him. "What was that?"

Chrom looked down to the Thundergrypp. Flintlock pistols weren't designed to be unloaded without firing, but Chrom removed the gunpowder in the pan to keep it from going off. He then set it on the ground. When he did, the butterflies disappeared, and Chrom was even more sure of his decision. "This is somebody's daughter. Maybe somebody's mother. Maybe somebody's wife. Maybe somebody's sister." He looked back at Pheros. "Heal her."

"Excuse me?"

"Heal her!"

"Chrom, what did I just tell you? I'm not wasting a healing staff on a Grimleal soldier-"

" _ **HEAL HER**_!" Chrom barked. Gaius and Henry looked at him in alarm. Even Pheros had to take a step back before she regained her composure.

"You do not command me! Chrom, our resources are limited until we get to The Saltworks. I am not wasting my time with that Grimleal trash."

Chrom looked around in frustration. "You won't help her? None of you will help her?! Fine. I'll heal her!"

Gaius and Henry looked at each other to make sure they were hearing the same thing, and Gaius stepped forward. "What are you going to do? Wander around and find a vulnerary?" To his surprise, Chrom turned and seemed to do just that. "You can't be serious!"

"Gaius, that woman deserves a chance!"

"Why are you upset? How many people have you killed in your life? What's the problem now?"

"I'm upset because I've been shown the answer to that question. Thirty years ago I would have killed these soldiers without hesitation, but things have changed. Even then, I would never have killed someone so defenseless."

Gaius was more confused than anything. "So you're some pacifist now?"

"Gaius, do you remember what you told me at Cordelia's homestead? You told me you never killed as a thief, but Robin and I made you do it as if you were any other soldier when you joined the Shepherds. You told me it bothered you. Well here's me saying _I'm sorry_. I see now how much fighting we did. The Shepherds fought for a good cause, and we did good things, but we left death in our wake. All that killing. How many? Hundreds? Thousands? How many men and women died so that we could find weapons or supplies? Money? Experience? We made killing into some kind of routine."

"It was a war, Chrom! We needed to be stronger!"

"We failed! What we tried didn't work! Something has to change!"

"I-I can't-" Gaius ran his hands through his hair. "This is getting crazy, Chrom! I'm glad you're thinking about these things, I really am, but you're being ridiculous! Why are you looking down on the Shepherds?! Why are you upset we defended ourselves?! These are gods-damned Grimmies! They're not people!"

"DON'T SAY THAT!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I don't like fighting either, but gods, Chrom, we're warriors! It's what we do! It's what your royal family has done for thousands of years! It's what Lucina and Noire and Owain and all the others did. They all fought to make a better world. We can't just have a cuddle party with the Grimleal. We have to kill them!"

"I'm not proud of any of that killing, and I never would have wanted such a violent life for my daughter! Surely you feel the same! I'm not proud of what we were!"

"Oh my gods! 'Oh woe is me! I saw Lucina step on a bug earlier and now I'm crying because my daughter is clearly such a horrible warmonger!' What is wrong with you?! Why have you turned against fighting at all? We can't negotiate with the Grimleal!"

"Maybe we have to fight, Gaius, but I won't take human life for granted as I did! We don't have to kill like this! We don't have to let young women bleed out in the street because you think she doesn't deserve empathy just because of her uniform!"

"You know what? If you're too squeamish to do it, then Henry can. Do it, Junior. Put an end to this stupid argument." Henry smiled and casually tossed a blast of dark magic at the wounded soldier.

" ** _NOOOO_**!" Not even thinking of his own safety, Chrom darted forward and took the attack. He was thrown to his back by the blast, and for a few seconds he could do nothing but scream as the spell burned his skin. If it wasn't for his high resistance, and the fact that Henry used a weaker spell to kill an already wounded woman, Chrom might have burned to death right there. Pheros, Henry, and Gaius froze in horror. Even the captured Grimleal soldiers were stunned.

"Are you insane?!" Gaius roared, more fear than anger in his voice. "Henry could have killed you!"

"Enough!" Chrom forced himself to his feet and drove the shaft of the Carrot Axe into the ground. The sight of such a furious, grizzled man with dark magic cracking off of his skin and a spring themed axe yelling was almost surreal. " _ **ENOUGH! SHE LIVES**_!"

No one could speak for several seconds. Such was his shock that Henry spoke to his allies for the first time since Ophelia's death. "He's… he's lost his marbles!"

"Oh for the Earth Mother's sake." Sighing, Pheros used her healing staff on the Pacification Unit, stabilizing her wound. "Are you happy now?!"

Chrom tried not to look angry at his allies. He didn't mean to blame them for having fought back. He just wanted to make it clear that no one else would die. "What about the prisoners?" He tried to say in a very stern voice. Pheros just responded with a roll of her eyes.

"Spare me your male posturing. I never would have made it in the army if I backed down whenever a man yelled. Only the lieutenant matters. The others are worthless." Pheros stepped forward with a severe glare of her own. "To do anything but dispose of them would be a waste of time."

"We're not killing them."

"We're at war! They're the enemy!"

"You're at war. Not me."

"You would let Cordelia and Ophelia die for nothing?"

Chrom didn't lose his temper at the mention of them. He just returned Pheros' glare. "I'm not Mercer. I won't turn away from the world anymore, but I'm not going to be what I was. I won't take life for granted, and even then I wouldn't have killed defenseless soldiers. I'm going to talk to them. All of them. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, but I won't be going with you if you leave now."

Pheros gritted her teeth, and she finally decided it wasn't worth arguing over. "Then I'll get them ready for interrogation."

"But don't hurt them. Just restrain them."

"Such naivety is a weakness in a warrior."

"Then maybe I'm something else now."

* * *

The Grimleal lieutenant was kept separately from the surviving members of the squad. The townspeople who had fled hadn't come back yet, so Pheros had her tied to a chair and kept in a storage room in the inn. When Chrom and the others walked in, the lieutenant didn't say or do anything. She just brought her green eyes to Chrom's and gave him a bitter, defiant look, but Chrom didn't respond with anger. He looked her over to see if Pheros had hurt her, but she stayed true to her word. Other than having her hands tightly bound, the woman was perfectly fine. However, even this bothered Chrom. "Untie her."

"Huh?! Gaius exclaimed. "Blue!"

"Chrom, that's moronic." Pheros responded. Chrom shook his head.

"We took her weapons, and there's four of us. She's no threat. I don't want to interrogate her. I don't want to intimidate her. I just want to talk. One adult to another."

"Chrom-"

"Please."

Pheros sighed and used her short sword to cut the woman's bindings. "You're lucky I'm not the Justicar, Chrom. He would have shot her by now."

The lieutenant rubbed her wrists and looked back to Chrom. "You expect me to thank you, rebel?" She slowly stood up. "You murdered three of my men."

"I'm sorry about that."

Gaius still couldn't get over what he was hearing. "You are?"

"I am." He looked at the lieutenant. "The wounded soldier is doing okay, by the way. She'll make it."

"What the hell are you trying to do here, Arch Surg?"

"I'm not Arch Surg." Chrom motioned to Pheros. "She is, but the rest of us aren't. We just want to talk."

The lieutenant eyed Pheros' sword, looking just long enough to get a tactical understanding of the situation. "Like hell!" Moving too quickly for anyone to react, the lieutenant momentarily fazed Chrom with a strike to the head, turned to Pheros, and forced her to the ground. Stealing her short sword, the lieutenant prepared to face Gaius and Henry, who were ready to defend themselves. Not wanting them to be hurt, or for the lieutenant to be killed, Chrom sprung up and reengaged the woman. Moving faster than he honestly thought he still could, Chrom narrowly dodged the lieutenant's attempt to stab him with the short sword. She held it in an ice pick grip, and her attack was a quick jab intended to be followed by a more serious slash. Chrom evaded the attack by grabbing the woman's arm and forcing it to the side, causing the blade to just barely miss him. As she tried to retract her arm, he held tightly to her forearm and spun her arm to the side, bending it uncomfortably as he did so, before striking her elbow with his free hand. He then grabbed her and threw her to her back, her body hitting the ground just instants after the sword she dropped. "You're a quick thinker." Chrom said to her as she brought her head up. "They trained you well. You're a good soldier."

"Damn you, Arch Surg!"

"I'm not Arch Surg."

"What's one terrorist to another!" With more force than he thought she was capable of, the woman reached up and struck Chrom in the knee. Chrom staggered, and the woman was able to free herself, retrieve the short sword, and impale Chrom in the side. The woman turned and tried to make for the exit, but Gaius readied his arquebus, and Henry prepared a spell. Defiant to the end, the woman simply raised her fists.

Chrom refused to allow any harm to come to her. Throwing himself back to his feet, he grabbed the lieutenant and forced her to the side a second before Henry could unleash an attack. The lieutenant responded to his mercy with a flurry of attacks from her fists, but a few power blows from him were enough to slow her. Still desperate to fight, the lieutenant grabbed the short sword still impaled in Chrom's side and tried to retrieve it, but Chrom took the opportunity to headbutt her before putting all of his strength into a blow to the stomach. The Grimleal soldier fell to the ground, unable to fight anymore.

"Damn Grimmie!" Gaius yelled as he stepped forward and stuck his arquebus to the woman's head, but Chrom grabbed the barrel and forced it to point at his own chest. Gaius almost dropped it in shock. "Chrom! What the-"

"Let me make this clear. If she dies, it'll only be after getting through me. We're talking to her."

"What… what is wrong with you?"

"No. More. _Death_."

"She stabbed you!"

"I don't care! It's not worth taking a life over!" Chrom shoved the arquebus into Gaius' chest and helped the lieutenant back to the chair. Gaius and Henry looked at Chrom as if he'd grown a second head now, so he tried not to look at them. Pheros stepped forward, a worried expression on her face. Chrom tried to remove the short sword, but Pheros grabbed it instead.

"At least let me treat this."

"Be gentle." Chrom growled. He wasn't pleading with Pheros. Instead he tried to softly command her. Pheros responded with a kind of playful smile.

"Of course."

She withdrew the sword in one quick motion. Chrom gritted his teeth and tried not to scream as blood poured out, but this only happened for a split second before Pheros applied her healing staff. Chrom nodded to her and looked at the Grimleal soldier. "Now, let's try that again. Who are you?"

The woman struggled to speak through her heavy breathing. "Wolcroft. Lieutenant Wolcroft. Service number 32-04-37503739. That's all you're going to get from me."

"My name is Chrom."

The woman's eyes widened as she seemed to finally recognize him from her poster. "By the Fell Dragon. It's true. That sword left at Shepherd's Folly was the Falchion. The Inquisitors tested it, but this proves it. You were there, and you left the sword behind!"

Gaius shook his head. "Chrom, leaving that sword behind might be one of the dumbest things you've ever done!"

"But… how did they find it so quickly? Why didn't they think it was just a replica?"

"The Inquisitors take everything seriously." Wolcroft responded.

"And the Grimleal is everywhere." Pheros added.

"I can't believe it's you." Wolcroft said, a hint of wonder in her voice. "We're all told about how dangerous the Shepherds were, and how you and a few others escaped justice, but seeing you now… you're just an old man."

"He put you on your rear end." Gaius responded.

"I'm not saying you're not a capable warrior. Tell me, why do I still live? The Arch Surg isn't known for taking care of prisoners."

"I'm really not part of the Arch Surg."

Pheros nodded. "He's not."

"I… I don't think it's right to just kill you."

"But I have a mission to capture you, or to at least report your location. You can't let me go. Surely you realize that? Just kill me, rebel. Murder me."

"I wouldn't do that."

"You would destroy the peace and order we've brought to the world, but you can't kill one woman?! Don't lie to me!"

Pheros shook her head. "See what we're dealing with? She's been brainwashed."

"Brainwashed?" Wolcroft started to chuckle before breaking out into a full laugh.

"What's so funny?" Gaius said as she began to stop.

"Brainwashed? A fine joke, but you terrorists have no idea what's going on. We choose to serve the Grimleal. We choose to fight! The Grimleal has given us opportunities that never existed before. In the old world, the people were lead by petty and inbred nobles. Now we're lead by men and women that have earned their positions! Lords used to say 'Fight for us!' Now our leaders say 'Fight with us!' Every civilization in history has been a nation of commoners and soldiers, but the Grimleal has done something that's never been done before. They've created a nation _for_ commoners. _For_ soldiers."

"Ridiculous." Pheros spat.

Wolcroft stared intently at Chrom. "Let me tell something, Exalt. I was Ylissean born. My family has been in the military for generations, and my father fought in your father's crusade. He served with distinction. He gave everything for Ylisse!" Wolcroft shook her head. "But when your sister Emmeryn became Exalt, the Ylissean military was disbanded. Only a few knights remained. Soldiers like my father were left with nothing. No pension. No occupation. As the years went by, Ylissean culture turned against the war, and soldiers like my father were shunned. They were called warmongers. Zealots. Even baby killers. Many couldn't do anything but fight, so they became brigands and pirates, and this only made people hate them more. Those men and women were willing to give everything for Ylisse, and Ylisse abandoned them! Petty lords and nobles used soldiers as tools, and then they were cast aside!"

"You going to let her insult your sister like that, Chrom?" Gaius asked.

"She did not insult my sister."

"Emmeryn was weak willed! She let the nobles lead her around like a dog!"

Chrom took a deep breath. "Okay, now she insulted my sister, but we're not hurting her!"

"The Grimleal won't do that!" Wolcroft continued. "The officers, bureaucrats, and lord lieutenants who lead the Grimleal earned their positions through merit, and many were soldiers. The Grimleal cares about soldiers. They've created a world where soldiers will always have a place."

"They've created a brutal autarchy where humanity is at the mercy of a god of evil!" Pheros countered. Wolcroft was unfazed.

"The Grimleal has unified humanity, bringing an end to the constant warfare between kingdoms. The Grimleal has brought an end to brigands and pirates. They've made education free and widely available. They've created a centralized economy. They build roads. Cities. They give opportunities to commoners that never existed before. They've ushered in an age of unparalleled scientific advancement. Let me ask you something, Chrom. If the Hero King himself somehow appeared when you were a young man, would he have been surprised at how much had changed? No. Everything was the damn same. It's like the world was in stasis. In thirty years the Grimleal has done what you lords couldn't do in two thousand. Feudalism held the world back! Grima has done nothing but help humanity! You lords were the autarchs! Why did you become Exalt, Chrom? Why did you lead the Shepherds? Because of your birth! You inherited your position in life! I became a lieutenant because I earned it, gods damn it! Even Gangrel and Aversa earned their positions! You're nothing more than a sad, old tyrant, and you should have died with the Future Witness and the rest of the men and women you lead to their deaths!"

It was everything Chrom had not to snap at Wolcroft, but he kept his composure. "Wolcroft… I never thought about it like that. I suppose Emmeryn's actions did leave a lot of soldiers without jobs, but they were necessary to create peace."

"Are you honestly going to tell me you want peace?! You who has slain hundreds of Grimleal soldiers?"

"What?" Chrom squinted at her. "I haven't killed that many Grimleal soldiers!"

"Liar!"

"I killed Courtney's lieutenants and agents, but that wasn't more than thirty people. I killed Dr. Kryczek and an Inquisitor at Nowi Falls. That's it."

"Not just Kryczek! You killed hundreds at Nowi Falls! An entire division of the 4th Army! Gone! Slain by your hand, and now you want to tell me that you just want to talk! That you want peace!"

"That's not true! Nowi Falls was attacked by Tunnellers! Only a handful of Grimleal soldiers were there."

Wolcroft seemed genuinely confused. "What?"

"Did the Grimleal tell you that soldiers were involved?"

"Yes!"

Pheros looked at her inquisitively. "The Grimleal 4th Army was deployed near the city, but we know now they were a diversion to lure out the city's garrison while the Tunnellers attacked. I think the Grimleal is lying to you."

"And why wouldn't you be lying?!"

"The Arch Surg always takes credit for attacks doesn't it?"

"... yes."

"Don't you think we would have announced if Chrom was fighting with us? If he took out an entire army while fighting with our forces? Think about it. Chrom is a legend to many people. You saw as much at Shepherd's Folly. As word that he's still alive spreads, the Grimleal will try to demonize him. Many people are afraid of the Arch Surg. The Grimleal are afraid Chrom could inspire resistance, so they want to associate him with a dangerous organization. Of course, the Grimleal lies to people about the Arch Surg. Makes it seem like we're terrorists."

Chrom looked at Wolcroft with an understanding expression. "They've been lying to you. I've only killed a handful of Grimleal soldiers. Even then, I'm not proud of it. Kryczek and the Inquisitor had to die, but I see now that I simply lashed out at Courtney's forces out of rage. They killed Conrad and his little girl, but killing them wasn't going to bring them back. I don't regret fighting the Grimleal, but I'm sorry about the killing."

Wolcroft snarled. "And my men? Are you sorry about them too?"

"I am."

"You're going to stand there and tell me you care about Grimleal soldiers?!"

"I talked to your men. All of them."

"What are their names?"

"Benjamin. He was originally conscripted, but now he's decided he likes military service. Mikaela. Wants to be an engineer. She wants to attend university one day. Sage. He wants to be a mage. He wants to study at an academy. Ellis. His father was a renowned musician in his town, and he wanted to learn to play an instrument one day. The wounded woman is named Ashley. She wants to be a Provost one day, and she's getting experience as a Pacification Unit now. The three soldiers we killed were named Sanchez, Mendoza, and Larry. I asked about them. Sanchez always had a quip or a joke. Mendoza was very serious. By the book. He wanted to become an officer. Larry was conscripted, and he was sending most of his pay back to his family. Three men with futures. Families. Lives. Unique points of views. Gone. Wiped away. Because of us. Because you encountered us. Wolcroft…" Chrom looked down. "I know what it's like to lose your allies. Believe me I do. Now you're face to face with the people responsible for their deaths. How could you feel anything but hatred for us? I just want you to know that I'm sorry. No matter what the Grimleal tells you, know that I don't want this."

Wolcroft was blown away, and Chrom could tell that her anger was finally leaving her. "You did talk to them… and you are sorry. But… why? We're the enemy."

"But you're still human. Grima deserves our wrath, but not soldiers like you. I see that now. Thirty years ago, I quietly became a monster. I created the Shepherds because I wanted to protect Ylisse and its people. Within a few years I was leading them against the capital cities of other countries. I was fighting as far away as Valm. I personally killed hundreds, and I ordered the Shepherds to kill thousands more. I fought for a good cause. I just wanted to stop the Grimleal. I just wanted to save the world." Chrom looked back up. "My father wanted the same thing. He just wanted to stop Grima. He just wanted to save the world. He ended up becoming a brutal conqueror who almost destroyed Ylisse and Plegia. The Shepherds grew so powerful as my war continued. We were bringing down entire nations. In a few more years… I might have become no different from my father. I had an honorable cause, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Gangrel. Aversa. Walhart. My father. Rudolf. Hardin. They all had good intentions, but what is the honor of their causes to the men and women that died because of them? I would ask the same thing of myself. Maybe my cause was righteous, but what is that to the world now?" Chrom gave a strange look to Wolcroft. There was more sadness in his eyes than anything. "The happiness in my life came from being a husband. A father. A brother. Not from killing. Not from fighting. Back then, I just wanted the war to be over. I just wanted the Shepherds to be happy. Now… I don't want to be what I was. I don't want to kill like that again. The Grimleal has done horrible things to me. To the world. How can I not fight them? I have to try and stop the Fell Dragon, but I don't want to kill soldiers like you anymore. Does… does that make sense?"

"I… I don't know. Being a soldier… it means having loyalty to something greater than yourself. If you are ordered to kill, then you kill. A soldier has no place questioning the mission."

"Then maybe I'm not a soldier. You may be a soldier, Wolcroft, but you're also a woman. An adult who makes her own decisions. Maybe… maybe we'll have to kill you… but gods. I don't want that."

"We're at war, Chrom."

"The Grimleal is at war with the Arch Surg, but does that mean we're at war with each other? The two of us personally? Are we two cogs in a machine, or are we a man and a woman with our own lives? The ability to make our own decisions?"

"Are you asking me to abandon my mission?"

"I'm asking you to consider what this war is, and why you're a part of it."

"I joined the military to protect the peace and order that the Grimleal has built from terrorists like you… but you're not a terrorist. You really do want peace." No one in the room knew what to say after that, and almost a minute of silence passed before Wolcroft broke it. "What happens now?"

"I talked to your soldiers about holding a service for Sanchez, Mendoza, and Larry. Would you be interested in that?"

"... I would."

* * *

Wolcroft and the five remaining soldiers were allowed to dig graves for the three slain Pacification Units. Pheros and Gaius fully intended to pack up the carriage and leave while they were distracted, but Chrom refused. As much as they pleaded and insisted that it was the most logical thing to do, Chrom wouldn't listen. He insisted on helping the Grimleal, and nothing changed his mind. He helped to dig the graves. He helped place the bodies in them. He stood there in respectful silence as several of the soldiers yelled at him for his role in the killings. He did it all without hesitation. The soldiers made makeshift markers out of the arquebuses, boots, and helmets of their friends, and then held a small service. Only then did Chrom leave, and he quietly watched from a distance as each one of them said something. Gaius approached Chrom, his mood nothing short of frustrated. "What the hell, Blue… just what the hell?"

"They deserve respect."

"The Grimleal soldiers?!"

"Yes."

"You're an idiot!"

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Chrom's voice was perfectly calm. There was no defensiveness or anger. Just sorrow. "If you could see what I've seen, you'd understand."

"Don't tell me you're upset with Henry and I for killing them."

"No. You were just defending yourselves." Chrom looked at Gaius. "But I want to minimize killing like this in the future."

"What are you becoming?"

"I don't know. The way I see it, my entire life I've had two paths to follow. The path of my father, or the path of my elder sister. Up until now, even if I didn't think so, I've been following the path of my father. Now I want to give Emmeryn's a try."

"Chrom, you're being naive. We'll have to kill people. We'll have to fight against the Grimleal. Don't confuse peace with quiet. Peace will only come when we destroy this empire, and you can't become best buddies with every soldier! What about that man who killed Ophelia? What about Courtney and Kryczek? Could you become friends with them?!"

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I can't give people a chance. I gave you a chance. I gave Henry a chance. I'm giving Pheros a chance. I met all three of you as enemies. If I hadn't been willing to talk to you, then no one would be by my side right now."

"Well… I'll give you that one."

Chrom and Gaius turned to see Wolcroft approaching by herself. Gaius tensed up, but Chrom gently grabbed his shoulder to reassure him. Wolcroft herself just stared down at her feet. It was clear that fighting was the last thing on her mind. "Chrom."

"Lieutenant. Is there anything else."

"Well…" Wolcroft shyly rubbed the back of her neck. It was a far cry from how she acted in battle. "Uh, may I have my sidearm back?"

"You mean this thing?" Gaius took out the pistol he'd taken from her. "Hell no!"

"Look, that wasn't issued to me. It costs a lot. I know I have no right to ask anything from you, but I was just wondering-"

"I am not giving a dangerous weapon back to an enemy soldier!"

"Gaius." Chrom pleaded. Gaius shot him a side glance.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"So you're just going to steal from a prisoner?"

"Uh, hello! It's me Gaius! THE THIEF!"

"What if you could disassemble it somehow? Then it wouldn't be dangerous."

Gaius thought about it. He took the weapon and struggled with it until he removed the hammer and cylinder before returning it to Wolcroft. She was clearly upset by it, but she managed a smile. "Well, I guess it's cheaper to get it repaired than to buy another one. Thank you."

Chrom smiled. "Thank you, Gaius."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm such a great guy. Now what the hell kind of gun is that anyways?"

"It's a 2638 New Model Ranger."

Chrom frowned. "Strange name."

"Well guns don't have names like Falchion, Tyrfing, or Thoron if that's what you were going for. Everything in a gun's name has meaning. 2638 is the year it was designed. New Model indicates that it's replacing an existing sidearm. Ranger indicates that it's made for the Army Rangers. It'll still be a few years before every division has one though. Regular soldiers might have one in a decade, assuming Xiao doesn't make a more advanced weapon by then. I only have one because I purchased it. Cost me a small fortune."

"Xiao?"

"Director Xiao is the head of weapons development. He's the one who rediscovered gunpowder, and he invented the arquebus, cannon, and rocket. If he didn't invent something, then he improved the design. He didn't invent the bow, but he did invent the crossbow, which is a hell of a lot easier to use. He didn't invent the revolver, but he did invent the mechanically indexing cylinder."

"The what indexing what now?"

"All I have to do to spin the cylinder is pull back the hammer." Wolcroft looked down to her weapon. "This weapon can fire six times before reloading. Imagine that someone had this weapon thirty years ago. They could have killed six of your best Shepherds in six seconds. Guns are the future of warfare. Soon soldiers will only fight with repeating firearms."

"Hopefully that future is far off."

"Anyways, Xiao is the man most responsible for the gunpowder revolution, but he has hundreds of engineers working for him now. Heh, gunpowder seems so simple. Just sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter."

"So what exactly is gunpowder? What makes it explosive?"

"The sulfur and charcoal act as fuels. The saltpeter acts as an oxidizer."

"Oxidizer?"

"A reduction-oxidation reaction is a chemical reaction in which matter is changed. Any such reaction involves both a reduction process and a complementary oxidation process. One example is carbon being oxidized to create carbon dioxide. Another example is the reduction of carbon by hydrogen to produce methane."

"Carbon dioxide? Methane? Hydrogen?"

"Carbon dioxide and methane are gases. Methane is commonly produced by swamps, and is sometimes called swamp gas. It consists of carbon and hydrogen. Carbon dioxide is a gas produced by aerobic organisms like humans as a byproduct of metabolism. Carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen are elements."

"Uh… elements?"

"Elements make up all matter."

"You mean elements like fire, water, and wind?"

Wolcroft smiled. "Ha! My Grimleal education beats your noble one. You're so primitive!"

"Hilarious." Gaius responded dryly.

"Well… anyways…" Wolcroft pulled out a carefully folded up document. "Thanks again for returning my sidearm, and thank you… for everything. For treating us with respect. It's more than what we would have done to you… and that's eating me inside. I think… I think you should have this."

"What is it?"

"Before I came here, I arrested an Arch Surg officer."

Pheros seemed to materialize out of nowhere beside Chrom, and he wondered how long she'd been listening. "An Arch Surg officer?!"

"Yes. I arrested him for public drunkenness, but then he confessed to being with the Arch Surg. He's being held in The Saltworks now. That's the paperwork I filled out when arresting him. If you show it to the Grimleal there… I don't know. Maybe they'll let you talk to him."

"You would do that?" Pheros asked, suspicious. Wolcroft shrugged.

"I honestly don't think he's that dangerous. He seemed depressed. He was rambling about how the Arch Surg made him sell a god into slavery. I felt bad for him."

"What was his name?"

"Uh… Vasto."

Pheros' eyes widened. "Vasto!"

"You do know him? Anyways, that paperwork should let you see him."

Chrom nodded. "Thank you, Wolcroft."

"It's the least I can do. By the way, I never saw you here."

"You'll abandon your mission?"

Wolcroft gave a sly look. "I would never abandon my mission. I just never found you."

Chrom returned a smile, and the two shook hands. "Good luck, Wolcroft."

"Heh, you don't want me to be too lucky. If we ever see each other again, I'll attack you."

"And I'll defend myself."

"Fair enough."

With that, Wolcroft walked away, and Chrom knew further interactions with her were no longer guaranteed. Gaius and Pheros both glared at him, and Chrom decided to turn to his old friend first. "Your trusting nature is going to get us all killed, Chrom."

Chrom just returned a smile. "It's worked so far."

"Sure it worked for Henry and I, but what about Gangrel and Aversa?"

Chrom just shrugged and shouldered the Carrot Axe as he looked off into the distant badlands. "Things will be different this time, Gaius. For everyone that died… they have to be."

Gaius snickered at the sight of Chrom trying to be serious. "Whatever you say… Spring Exalt."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."


	45. The Nation for Soldiers

Having returned from her encounter with Chrom just the previous day, Lieutenant Wolcroft of the Grimleal 4th Army, 44th Pacification Unit Precinct marched down The Bonework's mainstreet. Like The Saltworks, located just a few kilometers to the south, The Boneworks was a city in western Ferox founded by the Grimleal after its rise. Also like The Saltworks, as well as a number of other Grimleal founded cities, The Boneworks was largely dedicated to industrial production. That being said, The Boneworks didn't actually produce something. Rather, it extracted something already in the human body.

It was the scientists of the modern Grimleal that developed the chemical concept of elements, and some thirty years after the Grimleal's rise almost two dozen were known. Many, like iron and gold, were already known to humanity. The scientists just proved that they were elements and not compounds of different substances. Phosphorus was the first to be chemically discovered, and in a display of human ingenuity, the Grimleal had already found multiple uses for it. Phosphorus is largely used for fertilizers, especially important in a world ravaged by Grima's Blight. It also sees use in fine porcelain, sulfur tipped wooden splints that can be used to quickly generate fire, and even in incendiary weapons the Grimleal has been experimenting with. To fuel this need, the Grimleal relies on cities like the aptly named settlement in Ferox to extract calcium phosphate from bone ash. Bones are literally roasted to extract the material, then clay retorts encased in a very hot brick furnace distill out the highly toxic elemental phosphorus product. The majority of these bones came from deceased animals, but not all. It wasn't entirely unheard of for the bodies of criminals, political dissidents, and Arch Surg prisoners to find their way to these facilities.

Soldiers like Wolcroft were aware of this, and Wolcroft knew full well that some of the men and women she personally arrested may have made their way into fertilizer and flammable splints. Wolcroft tried not to think about that now. Instead she thought of the cadets behind her. The young men and women that followed her were the future of the Pacification Units. Typical teenagers, she could tell they weren't really paying attention to anything she said, and she tried to interact with them whenever she could. "Alright, everybody. Gather round. There's something I need to show you here." Wolcroft looked towards two shifty looking young men on the other end of the street as the cadets formed up, still holding their private conversations and only half heartedly listening to their superior. "See those two over there? You can tell from the way they're standing that they haven't moved in some time. Loitering is illegal in busy streets like this. What do we do?"

"Kick their asses?" A young man answered.

"N-no. No! They haven't really done anything wrong, but rules like that allow us to justify questioning them. Find out if they're connected to anything else. People don't just stand around in this city for no reason. Not when you can smell the gases from the Bonework facilities in the air all the damn time. Now, we don't want to come off as hostile. We want them to open up to us if at all possible." Wolcroft turned to the two. "Hey there! Mind if we have a talk?"

"Eat me, Lieutenant Wolcroft!" One of them responded.

"Eat me raw!" The other added.

Wolcroft turned back to the cadets and tried to play it off. "Heh, well… kids. Anyways, we should probably have a few words with them. Questions?"

"Yeah. Who is Ferox?"

"Why is Aversa?"

"Where are the Emmeryns of yesteryear?"

"Balls!"

The teenaged cadets snickered at their own jokes, more because they knew each other than because they were actually funny. Wolcroft just shook her head. "Look, I might let that kind of behaviour slide, but don't be like that around an army officer. If the Commissar were here, he wouldn't take it well."

"She's right. I wouldn't take it well at all."

Wolcroft turned, slightly panicked, to find the Commissar she was under. Commissars were political officers attached to Grimleal military units to ensure they maintained a certain standard of ideological purity, and to ensure that they didn't become too independent of the government. As powerful as Gangrel had made the Grimleal army, he didn't want any possibility of a military coup. Commissars usually had major level authority, though in practice they were on par with colonels as majors were expected to defer to them if they ever disagreed. Though part of the military, Commissars were chosen for political reasons, and they almost never fought in battle. Officers hated them for interfering with military planning, and soldiers hated them for being cruel, authoritative, and uncaring of soldier's lives. Generally speaking, only the Emperor's policies mattered to them. They weren't like soldiers, and so they had little empathy for soldiers. The man standing before Wolcroft now was a particularly by the book Commissar named Letlev. He didn't usually care to interact with Pacification Units, but she was technically under his command. "Commissar Letlev!" She silently implored the cadets to be serious. "I-I wasn't expecting you."

"Ah, but I've been tasked with finding you, Lieutenant. Come with me."

"B-but-" Wolcroft straightened herself. "With all due respect, you're not generally concerned with Pacification Units, and I'm in the middle of something here."

Letlev didn't really react. He just looked to the cadets and spoke with a blank, emotionless tone. "The Grimleal thanks you for your service. You're dismissed for now. Return to your barracks. The Lieutenant will come with me."

"I'm really in the middle of something here-"

In full view of Wolcroft's cadets, Letlev stepped very close to her and almost spat into her face with his every word. Wolcroft struggled just to breathe, and her resolve melted away. "Listen to me, girl. I am a Commissar, and you are a Pacification Unit. I serve the Emperor's interests and deal with matters of national security, while you deal with drunkards and people who expose themselves in the street. Now your ass is going to come with me, or I'll have Provosts drag you and everyone you've ever known into a detainment center."

"... yes, sir."

* * *

 **Northtown, South Valmese Administrative Zone**

Corriveau, Lisia, Ferguson, and the young woman Corriveau's Rangers had found lying in a field made their way to the nearby settlement of Northtown. The woman herself was in her twenties, with stark white hair she kept in two ponytails. The most notable piece of attire she had was a long, dark robe. Beyond that she wore only simple tan clothing and dark boots. The woman occasionally glanced over to the three Rangers that had temporarily taken her in. Ferguson had short, curly brown hair and a very serious expression that never seemed to leave his face. He wore a full set of dark red plate armor that seemed to have a strange purple iridescence to it. He definitely made for an imposing figure. By contrast, the youngest woman in the group was almost the exact opposite. Lisia had soft blonde hair kept into two ponytails, though hers extended further outwards than the woman's own. She wore a long, silver dress that seemed to keep its shape through metal wiring underneath. There were a number of ribbons in her hair, and the Mark of Grima was visibly stitched into the dress, though the woman herself didn't recognize it.

Her attention, however, was most drawn to Corriveau. The Captain of these Rangers was a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than the woman herself if not the same age, of slightly above average height. She didn't look like much compared to Ferguson, but she was a bit taller than the woman and stood well over Lisia. She was also fairly toned, yet maintained a slim and traditionally feminine figure. Corriveau's chest was covered by a padded dark red shirt. The buttons for it were located towards the left side of her body, and each button actually seemed to be a Mark of Grima. A dark purple Mark of Grima was also emblazoned over her left breast. Her entire left arm was left bare, exposing her strange birthmark, but her right shoulder was covered by an ornate piece of red plate armor. The rest of her right arm was covered by a dark red sleeve from her shirt. She also wore dark red pants and boots that went up to her knees, and a cape that flowed down around her right arm. The outside of the cape was black, and the inside was a bright red. The color scheme clashed with her blue eyes and navy blue hair, though the woman noted she seemed to be more drawn to these features because of it. At Corriveau's side was a steel sword. As the woman walked with her, she managed to get close enough to realize how detailed it was. A diamond was embedded in the pommel, and the hilt was elaborately decorated. The sword's crossguard featured a design like nothing the woman had ever seen. One of the guards actually seemed to be an elaborate depiction of Naga in her dragon form. The other a depiction of Grima. The Mark of Grima was also etched into the base of the blade itself. Beyond her sword, Corriveau had a metal, tubular device of some kind on her other hip, but the woman couldn't yet make out what it was.

For reasons she didn't understand, the woman felt very content around the Rangers, and especially while around Corriveau. Still, the lack of control she had over the situation was bothering her. "What will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner?"

Corriveau just smiled. "Hah! You'll be free to go once we establish that you're no enemy of the Grimleal."

"The Grimleal?"

"You've never heard of the Grimleal?" Ferguson chimed in. "Ha! Someone pay this actor. She plays quite the fool. The furrowed brow is especially convincing."

"Ferguson, please. To be honest, stranger, it is odd that you're not familiar with the Grimleal. Are you serious?"

"Y-yes. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. I'll be happy to tell you about us. Rangers help the citizens of the Grimleal whenever they're in need after all."

"Am I a citizen of the Grimleal?"

"Everyone is. The Grimleal controls the entire world. It is lead by Gangrel, the Emperor, and Aversa, the High Inquisitor. Grima the Fell Dragon trusts them to rule over humanity. We serve in the Grimleal army. Specifically, we're Army Rangers. I suppose proper introductions are in order... My name is Corriveau—but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lisia."

Lisia wasn't exactly amused. "I am NOT delicate! …Hmph! Ignore my sister, please. She can be a bit thick sometimes. But you're lucky the Rangers found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"

"Or wolves." Ferguson added.

"Rangers? What exactly are Army Rangers?"

"We're not quite normal soldiers. We're a light infantry combat formation, and we're trained to handle any kind of situation while operating independently of other army forces. There are different Ranger divisions, but our group is smaller. We're called Special Tasks Company 5."

"Why is your group smaller?"

Corriveau shrugged. "We just are. I don't mind, though. I think smaller groups of soldiers are more effective. The Shepherds certainly proved that a few decades back."

"The Shepherds?"

"The Shepherds were a group of warriors originally formed to protect a country called Ylisse. They were heretics who tried to stop Grima's ascension, but thankfully they were put down before they did any real damage. Still… I hear they were great warriors, and I can respect that."

Ferguson squinted at his commanding officer. "Captain, perhaps this conversation isn't entirely relevant?"

"Right. Did you want to know anything else?"

The woman couldn't say she understood anything that was going on yet, but she liked talking to Corriveau. The fogginess in her head faded with every word of her smooth, reassuring voice. "Um… what about this Grima?"

Corriveau and Lisia looked genuinely surprised. Ferguson just looked annoyed. "You really don't know about the Fell Dragon?"

Lisia giggled. "She must have been living under a rock!"

"Fell Dragon?" The woman asked. "It… fell and couldn't get up?"

Lisia snickered. Corriveau shook her head, but not at all in a condescending way. The woman found herself fascinated, almost mesmerized, by how her blue hair flowed as she moved, and she didn't realize it until Corriveau's words snapped her back to attention. "Grima the Fell Dragon is a divine being that has brought peace and order to humanity. It's… it's hard to explain. Perhaps I could tell you more later."

Ferguson turned to the woman. "I'm not sure this stranger has the capacity to understand the importance of what we do."

"Don't mind Ferguson the Wary over here."

"A title I shall wear with pride. Army Rangers have a duty to the Grimleal, and we cannot trust random strangers."

Corriveau scowled. "We also have a duty to the people of the Grimleal."

"You need to be more mindful of this woman."

"But I trust her."

"Why?"

"It just… feels right."

Despite Ferguson's criticisms, the woman couldn't help but smile at what Corriveau said. She felt the same way. "I understand, sir. I would do no less myself. My name is… is-"

"You remember your name?" Corriveau asked. Ferguson looked at them both anxiously.

"Quiet! I mean, be patient, sir. We wouldn't want to ruin her concentration."

"My name is, uh… I… Phoenix?"

Ferguson raised an eyebrow. "Is that truly your name?"

"Yes?" Phoenix smiled. "Yes. That sounds right."

"Very well. Phoenix it is."

"Phoenix? Is that foreign? …Ah, well. We can discuss it later. We're almost to town. Once we—"

"Corriveau, look! The town!"

Everyone looked to what Lisia was pointing at. In the distance was the small settlement of Northtown. Smoke was rising from one of the buildings, and screams could faintly be heard. "Something's wrong with the town! Ferguson, Lisia! Quickly! Rangers lead the way!"

"What about her?" Ferguson asked.

"Unless she's screaming about something, she can wait."

"Aptly put, Captain."

Lisia nodded. "Let's go already!"

The Rangers ran ahead, leaving Phoenix behind. "But what about— Hmm…" Hesitating for but an instant, Phoenix ran after them.

By the time the Rangers arrived to protect the settlement, the streets of Northtown were already largely abandoned. Unfortunately, one young maiden couldn't make it inside, and now she desperately tried to flee as the town's attackers set their sights on her. There wasn't a sensation in existence more primal than what the girl was feeling now, as her pursuers weren't human. They weren't attacking for any complex reason. Even simple human greed was beyond them. These were not brigands or soldiers, but killing machines of matted fur and gnashing teeth, propelled by powerful muscles that surged forward with the promise of salvation from the crippling hunger that enveloped them. For everything the woman was to her community and family, she was nothing more than a potential meal to these predators, and they hurled themselves after her. The timeless battle between predator and prey. The root of all violence.

With but a loss of footing, one mistake, the woman was sent to the ground, no longer able to escape. She sat up and looked just time to see a gray wolf, abnormally thin from starvation, sink its teeth into her exposed leg. The woman screamed, partially out of pain and partially in an attempt to scare away the canine, and tried kicking the beast with her other leg, but the wolf wouldn't budge. It just continued to bite down while twisting its head, and in another second it might have severed an artery had a bullet not passed clean through its skull. The woman glanced up to see Corriveau holster her New Model Ranger, and together they were able to free her leg from the wolf's jaw. "Are you alright?!"

The woman struggled to speak through the pain. "My leg!"

"Hold on." Lisia kneeled by the girl's side and applied her healing staff. Save for the blood, it was like the wound was never there. "All better?"

The maiden smiled as Corriveau helped her up. "Thank you! Oh Grima bless you!"

"We'll protect the town, just get inside!"

Lisia approached the dead wolf warily as the girl fled. "This town isn't being attacked by brigands!"

"Strange. I've heard of wolves attacking caravans and camps recently, but an entire town?" Corriveau drew her sword and turned at the sound of something approaching to find Phoenix approaching her.

"Wait!"

"Phoenix! You followed us! Why?"

"I…I'm not certain myself. But I'm armed, and I know my way around a fight, if you'll have me."

Ferguson glared at her. "Captain, I'm not sure having her at our back is a good idea."

"We need all the help we can get. These wolves are starving. They'll attack without fear, and we have no idea how many are in the streets. Besides, if Phoenix is willing to protect the people of the Grimleal, then that's enough for me." Corriveau put her hand on Phoenix's shoulder, and the two women nodded to each other. "We'll be happy to let you fight."

"T-thank you! I'll prove myself to you, Corriveau." Phoenix's smile faded slightly as she turned to Ferguson, but she remained determined. "And to you."

"Oh I'll be watching you." Ferguson readied his weapon and muttered to himself. "More than you'll ever realize."

* * *

"And that was the last you saw of Chrom?"

Wolcroft slowly brought her head up to look at Letlev. Gone was her smooth and elegant Pacification Unit armor, and so too was her pride. The lieutenant had been stripped to her smallclothes, and cuts and bruises covered her bare skin. A severe gash ran along the right side of Wolcroft's face, leaving her blind in that eye, and burn marks could be found all over her body. Some were caused by magic, some by more physical means. Wolcroft herself was taken by involuntary shivering, and her voice choked with every word she tried to say. It was all the willpower she had left to look her torturer in the eye and speak audibly. "Yes. Ye-he-hes! That's everything that happened!"

"Why didn't you tell us this before? Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Letlev put his arms on the small table Wolcroft's own were now chained too and leaned into her. As much as Wolcroft wanted to look at anything else, her only chance now was to be sincere, and the small, windowless room didn't provide any other visuals. "What do you have to say for yourself, _Lieutenant_?" Letlev's voice was calm and collected, and it terrified Wolcroft. She knew he could have a lowly soldier erased from history in the blink of an eye, and he wouldn't lose any sleep over it. He'd probably done it dozens of times before.

"Please! I… I didn't… he wasn't… I-I've been loyal to the Grimleal my entire life! MY ENTIRE LIFE! PLE-HEASE! That has to mean something! Right?! RIGHT?!"

Letlev didn't even consider it for a second. Four soldiers, each one a muscular man that weighed as much as two Wolcrofts, walked into the room as if the screaming was enough to tell them what was going to happen next. "You let a criminal get away. Someone that the Emperor himself has ordered killed. Your actions are nothing short of treason."

"No. N-no! NO! Grima help me!"

Letlev continued. "You are a traitor to the motherland."

One of the men put his hand on Wolcroft's shoulder, crushing it. "What do we do with her, Commissar?"

"She needs to disappear. There will be no trial. Nothing public. Make sure no one ever hears from her again. Take her to Camp Hope. I don't want to see this stunted slime in my sight again!" The four men forced Wolcroft out of her chair, unchained her, and seized each of her limbs. They then callously carried her away to her future as an unperson, ignoring her desperate protests and claims of devotion. Letlev was entirely apathetic to her cries, and he simply took a flammable splint, made in that very city, and used it to light a cigar. "Another leak has been plugged."

* * *

Phoenix looked around as she put away a thunder tome and bronze sword. "Well that's the end of that."

"Lucky for the town, we were close by. But holy wow, Phoenix! You were incredible! Swords, sorcery, AND tactics! Is there anything you can't do?"

Corriveau nodded in agreement with her sister. "You're certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure."

Ferguson sheathed his weapon. "Indeed. Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here?"

Phoenix couldn't say she was afraid of Ferguson anymore after facing down almost two dozen feral wolves, and she didn't back down. At the same time she tried to be understanding of his position. "I understand your skepticism, Ferguson. And I cannot explain why only some knowledge has returned to me. But please, believe me. I have shared all that I know."

Corriveau nodded to her. "You fought to save Grimleal lives. My heart says that's enough."

"And your mind, Captain? Will you now heed its council as well?"

"Ferguson, the Rangers could use someone with Phoenix's talents. With that many wolves, we could have been overwhelmed without her strategies. It was like she could see things we couldn't see. She could feel the tide of battle. We've brigands and terrorists, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician? Besides, I believe her story, odd as it might be."

"J-join the Rangers?! We're not a militia!"

"We've always been granted a great deal of independence. Maybe we could talk to my elder sister about it."

"Th-thank you, Corriveau."

"So how about it? Will you join us, Phoenix?"

"I would be honored."

With the fighting over the Rangers took time to look over the aftermath of the battle, if violence against animals could be called that. Each and every wolf was frail from starvation. Many had visible signs of disease from hunger weakening their immune systems. Neither Corriveau or Phoenix took any pleasure in having killed them, even if it was necessary to protect the town. "This is unprecedented." Ferguson said to his captain as he approached. "Wolf attacks on isolated groups are becoming increasingly common, but an attack on a settlement like this? It's unheard of."

Phoenix looked inquisitively at the bodies. "I may be suffering from amnesia, but I know what a wolf is. They're not supposed to be this dangerous."

"The world's changing." Corriveau responded grimly. "The Fell Dragon has done a lot of good for humanity… but its ascension was destructive. When Grima was resurrected, it unleashed a disease called Grima's Blight on the world. Grima's Blight destroys soil, making it impossible for plants to grow in infected areas. Without plants, herbivores don't have any food. Without herbivores-"

"Carnivores like wolves have no food."

"Exactly. Countless species of animals have gone extinct. Now wolves are dying out. It's becoming so difficult for them to find food that they've started looking towards human settlements. A few years back there were reports of them walking down the streets of cities looking for trash. Then the attacks started."

"But why would they attack a large settlement like this? Predators go after easy meals."

Ferguson looked to one of the dead wolves. "They've been driven insane by hunger. Think of it this way. If they attack a human settlement there's a large chance they'll be killed, but a small chance they'll get a meal. If they do nothing, there's a guaranteed chance they'll starve to death. Attacking is the most logical solution. They have no choice."

Corriveau sighed. "I don't want to have to kill them. There's no malice in their hearts. They're just animals. They're just hungry."

"Still, Phoenix brings up a good point. I don't think they'd attack a settlement this large on their own. Something doesn't add up. Remember that we saw smoke rising from the town. Wolves can't start fires."

"Do you think… someone caused this?"

The Rangers turned as a elderly man approached. "Oh thank you! Thank you! Truly Lord Lieutenant Emervidia is looking out for us! You must let us repay you! The town of Sun Hollow doesn't have much to spare, but we will have a feast in your honor!"

Phoenix frowned. "Sun Hollow? I thought this was Northtown?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry. For centuries this town was called Sun Hollow, but the Politburo made us change the name to Northtown just a few years ago. I'm… still not used to it."

"The Politburo?"

"A nickname for the Political Bureau." Corriveau answered. "They rule from High Point, the true capital of the Grimleal."

"High Point? Where's that?"

"We… don't know. It moves."

"A moving city?!"

"It's a long story."

Ferguson turned to the man and nodded. "A most generous offer, sir, and no doubt your hospitality would be grand... But I'm afraid we must hurry back to Nurubiru."

"Dark meat only for me, medium well, and no salt in the soup. I simply— Wait, what?! We're not staying?! But, Ferguson, it's nearly dark!"

"When night falls, we'll camp. Eat off the land, make our bed of twigs and the like... I believe you mentioned you would be "getting used to this"?"

"Ferguson? Sometimes I hate you."

Ferguson looked at Phoenix expectedly, as if she were about to say something, but she didn't. Frowning, he turned back to the villager. "We noticed smoke rising from one of your buildings. I don't suppose you were attacked by a new breed of tool using wolves?"

"No. There were Arch Surg here earlier."

"Arch Surg!" Corriveau and Lisia exclaimed.

"Arch Surg?" Phoenix wondered, her voice completely innocent.

"Yes. The man continued. "There were just a few scouts. They… they did the strangest thing. They were scattering dead livestock everywhere. Pigs, sheep, chickens, things like that. All the bodies were half slaughtered too. We honestly didn't think we could drive them off. We only have a few old matchlock arquebuses. But they left as soon as we fought back. Then the wolves came.

Phoenix's eyes lit up, as if she were in the minds of the Arch Surg for a second. "They lured the wolves here. They must have known a wolf pack was nearby. Those bodies would have driven the starving wolves into a bloodlust, but there wouldn't have been much meat on them if they were half slaughtered."

"So the wolves would turn to the people in the town." Corriveau added. Phoenix nodded.

"They used them as a kind of… biological warfare."

"Tricky sons o' bitches!"

Lisia gasped. "Sister! Your language! We have a guest."

"Oh, right… sorry."

Phoenix giggled. "It's fine. So who are these Arch Surg?"

"Well you're just full of questions." Ferguson said dryly. "We could easily find you a job with the tax collection services. You'd be very good at audits."

"Enough, Ferguson!" Corriveau snapped. "It means Archanean Insurgency. We also call them Able Sierra, terrorists, and rebels. They call themselves the Archanean Liberation Front. Arch Surg is a common term for them. Hell, some of their soldiers call themselves that."

"They're trying to destroy the peace and order the Grimleal has brought to the world." Ferguson spoke up.

"And the people are caught in the middle." Lisia added, a sadness in her voice.

"Who leads these Arch Surg?"

"A woman named Archangel, but the Grimleal knows almost nothing about her." Corriveau replied. "However, as the name suggests, the Arch Surg isn't based in this continent. Their forces in Valm are commanded by a man named Dalton. He's not to be underestimated. They say he was once a general in Walhart's Empire. They say he fought the Shepherds _and lived_."

"Walhart's Empire?"

"Heh. I have a lot to tell you, Phoenix."

"Well…" She smiled to herself. "I'd look forward to some one on one time with you."

Ferguson cleared his throat. "Anyways, shall we be off? We'll need to talk to Emervidia if Phoenix is to join us."

"Emervidia?"

Lisia smiled. "Our elder sister. Don't worry. I'm sure she'll like you once she hears about what happened here."

In the distance, overlooking the town, a lone figure once again stood watching the Rangers. The man still wore his strange armor, and the Mark of Naga over where his right eye would be if his helmet had any features glowed as he monitored them. "Fools. All of you. Falling into these roles so easily. Thinking you're acting of your own volition. Your moves are not your own. They're echoes of men and women that came before." The man stopped at the sound of growling, and he turned to see a wolf approaching him. The wolf snarled and prepared to attack, but the man only reacted with annoyance. "Piss off, you little scamp! Can't you see I'm trying to MONOLOGUE here!" The wolf ignored him, and the man sighed. "Oh for Naga's sake."

The wolf charged, but the man waved his arm and caused bright light to emanate from him. Apathetic, the wolf leapt up and tried to tackle the man to the ground, but he disappeared into golden light. The wolf passed through him, leaving the beast with nothing but confusion.


	46. The Granddaughters

The carriage ride to The Saltworks was brief and uneventful, though the awkwardness was palpable. Chrom knew his allies didn't understand his decisions, and no one spoke a word to him. Even Gaius largely looked away. In the few moments where their eyes did meet, Gaius seemed to feel only concern. Chrom stood by his actions. If given the opportunity to repeat the events of that morning, he would have done them again without hesitation. The group had gotten a late start, and it was almost sundown now. Chrom remembered marching for hours as a young man without tiring, but those days were gone. Now he was still exhausted from the earlier battle, and he already looked forward to a night's sleep. Unfortunately for him, he only needed a brief glance at The Saltworks itself to see that was still a few hours away.

The Saltworks was surrounded by a massive stone wall, far more complex than anything Chrom had seen in his time. Ylisse had nothing like it, and even Gangrel and Walhart's castles weren't as fortified. The walls were double lined. The inner walls were separated from the outer walls by a terrace, and another terrace separated the outer wall from a large moat. Breastworks also surrounded the outer terrace. The inner walls were all part of one massive structure. They reached twelve meters into the air and were six meters thick. It was made from well cut limestone blocks and several bands of bricks. At several points in the wall were massive octagonal towers over twenty meters tall and fifteen meters wide. There was a battlemented terrace at the top of each tower. The outer walls were two meters thick at the base and featured arched chambers that extended nine meters into the sky. The outer wall also had towers, each one sitting midway between the towers in the inner wall. Wherever there was a tower in the inner wall, the outer wall had a massive flat platform. Chrom wondered if the platforms were for wyvern riders. It would give them enough space to land directly on the walls if they had to. The towers of the other wall were square shaped, ten meters tall, and four meters wide. They had battlemented terraces on the top of the towers and posterns that allowed entrance to the terraces. The moat outside the walls was twenty meters wide and easily looked deep enough to sink a wagon. There was a short crenellated wall inside of the moat that looked like it could provide cover for defending soldiers. Walls crossed the moat. Chrom had no idea what they were for, but they were spiked so they could not be used to cross. It was possible that they were dams used to control the height of the moat. The engineering that went into the walls was already highly advanced, and Chrom didn't find it unbelievable. Given that The Saltworks was built in the middle of the badlands, the Grimleal had to have shipped the water in from kilometers away. No expense was too much when it came to defending the Grimleal's resources.

Entrance to The Saltworks was possible only through several gates, and the main gate had a mass of hundreds of people in front of it. As the carriage got closer, Chrom could see the problem. The Grimleal only allowed a few people into the city every minute. The crowd was actually a line. The gate, built of large square blocks of polished white marble fitted together without cement, had the form of a triumphal arch with three arched gates, the middle one larger than the two others, and was flanked by large stone towers. Dozens of Pacification Units could be seen outside the gate, and soldiers patrolled the wall itself. Breaking in was absolutely impossible.

"Gods above all!" Chrom exclaimed. "I've never seen a fortress like this! Is every city in the Grimleal so fortified?"

"All the important ones. Controlling the planet gives you quite a bit of taxpayer money to spend on defenses."

Chrom looked past the crowd to see what appeared to be a small village outside of The Saltworks itself. The main road leading to the city passed through it, and the carriage would soon visit it. Pheros noticed Chrom looking at it, and she spoke up. "The Grimleal heavily monitors traffic in and out of major cities. No one gets in without valid authorization papers, and it can take hours to get through the gate."

"You're kidding!"

"Am I known for my sparkling sense of humor, Chrom?"

"Well-" Chrom glanced over to the Carrot Axe. "You did get me this."

Pheros almost laughed before she stopped herself, but she still smiled. "I just thought it went with your eyes. Anyways, those buildings there were built to cater to the people stuck waiting outside of the city. It's too late to try and get in now, so we'll have to try in the morning. We'll stay at an inn tonight."

"Do you have authorization to enter the city?"

"You let me worry about that."

Gaius turned to Chrom. "If I remember, Tinhead would come to this city for supplies. If he can get in, why can't we?"

"He wasn't wanted by the Grimleal."

"We'll put on disguises. I'll wear a fake beard. You can shave off yours."

"Very funny."

The group continued until they were just outside of the makeshift town, but Pheros had the driver let them off there. Gaius protested about having to walk, but Pheros ignored him. She simply lead Chrom, Gaius, and Henry around the buildings. She didn't walk down the street, Instead duck through alleys. The further the group got from the main road, the shiftier the area became. The buildings became more rundown, and Chrom couldn't see any patrolling Pacification Units. The people also became rougher looking. Chrom couldn't see any travelling families anymore, and nobody here looked wealthy. Gaius looked around and smiled. "Well hey. It's just like the slums I grew up in. Takes me back. I guess some things never change."

"Income inequality is an ancient evil." Pheros responded. "However, we have an advantage here. The Pacification Units never come to this part of the town."

Pheros had the group wait there until they were approached by three unfortunate looking individuals. They were all older men, their bodies concealed by ragged looking cloaks. One was heavily slouched and balding. One was elderly, but his posture was oddly straight, and he seemed to be very fit. One had a beard that consumed much of his body. Chrom and Gaius looked at that man in particular. "Wait a minute." Gaius squinted at him. "I've seen that ridiculous beard before."

"Nothing is ridiculous about the Archanean Liberation Front, knave!" The man in the center dramatically seized his own cloak and tossed it aside, revealing himself as Farber. The poorly disguised Cervantes tried to do the same, but Farber's cloak flew into him and he struggled with it for several seconds.

"Agh! Damn it, Farber! You ruined my entrance!"

Algol stripped off his disguise. "You sure your cloak didn't just get caught in that thing?"

"You all are just jealous!" Cervantes took out a small comb and straightened his beard. "Ah, there we go."

"Oh boy, you three." Gaius moaned. "This day just couldn't get any better."

Chrom immediately remembered that last time he saw Cervantes, Farber, and Algol. "Paul! Where is he?"

Algol furrowed his brow. "Who?"

"Donnel's son! He survived the destruction of the homestead, and he was last with you! Where is he!"

"He's in our safehouse in the city itself." Farber replied. Cervantes shook his head.

"But I don't think he wants to see you, my boy. He blames you for what happened."

"I… I can't say I disagree with him."

Henry stepped forward. Though clearly concerned, he still wouldn't speak, but Gaius seemed to understand exactly what he was worried about. "And… Ophelia's body?"

"It's not fly food if that's what you're asking." Algol replied bluntly. "We kept it."

"Algol!" Pheros snapped. "Show some respect!"

"Aww, or what? I'll hurt their feelings? Does the poor little Exalt miss the last of his inbred bloodline?"

Chrom clenched his fist, and Gaius stepped forward. "Shut up, you insane cultist!"

Algol smiled and placed his hand on his axe. "How about I put you in the dirt with the rest of the Shepherds?!"

Pheros was about to shout at both of them, but Farber beat her to it, and his voice carried far more easily. "SILENCE! BOTH OF YOU! Now, we shall proceed to the funeral immediately!"

Chrom slowly turned to him. "Funeral?"

Cervantes continued to comb his beard out of habit. "You did want to bury her right? We've got the body ready, and we dug a hole by a hill outside of town. It's the best we can do for her at this point."

All three of the former Shepherds were hit by a twinge of sorrow. Though Ophelia had been gone for several days at this point, burying her would have been an admission that she was never coming back. Still, there wasn't anything else they could do. Chrom took a deep breath and slowly nodded. "Alright. W-we should bury her. She… deserves something."

Chrom didn't get much sympathy from the men of the Arch Surg, but Pheros gave him an understanding look. "Follow us."

The group made their way out of the town to the top of a small hill. A small gravesite was already prepared, featuring a hole about 1.8 meters deep and an unnamed marker. Beyond that was a sight that shook Chrom to his bones, and Gaius and Henry didn't take it much better. Lying beside the grave, apparently having been just put there, was the corpse of his grandniece. Farber had placed some kind of magical ward on the body, protecting it from the elements, but several days of decomposition had still taken their toll on Ophelia. Despite that, Chrom thought she looked dissonantly peaceful. If not for the visible injury on her abdomen, she almost looked like she could be sleeping. Chrom had to actively fight the urge to cry, and he still couldn't stop himself from letting out a rather undignified noise. Henry didn't speak. The expression on his face didn't even change much beyond an empty stare, but he did suddenly fall to his knees in shock. Chrom wasn't sure he'd ever seen him do anything like it. Gaius just crossed his arms and turned his head away, his breathing short and irregular.

Farber gave a short pause before he spoke, as if he felt the slightest bit of pity, but he quickly returned to his professional demeanor. "We upheld our end of the bargain. Her body is preserved and ready for burial."

"Thank you." Chrom said weakly. At that moment he could have stared at Ophelia's corpse forever, lost in his guilt and sorrow. Why get up? Why live any further himself? Why do anything but let these feelings he'd fought so long to suppress consume him when his few remaining loved ones continued to die no matter what he did? Chrom wasn't brought back to reality until Pheros gently placed her hand on his shoulder, and she even rocked him slightly. Chrom couldn't help but be reminded of Cordelia and the times she had done the same when he found himself confronted with his past failures. He willed himself to look away from Ophelia and was greeted by her compassionate gaze. He could tell there was no trauma in her own eyes. She'd likely seen countless funerals before. Still, Pheros seemed to genuinely feel something for Chrom, and he silently thanked the gods she was there. In a dark way, Chrom was even glad that Algol, Farber, and Cervantes were there. If they weren't trying to rush things along,

Chrom might have stayed there in his agony for hours. Maybe even days. "Oh gods."

"Shh." Pheros whispered. Deprived of her normal seriousness and repressed fury, Pheros' voice was calm and soothing, and it was about the only thing Chrom could hold on to at that moment. He'd have broken down completely without it. "Let's just set her to rest. You'll feel better with closure."

Chrom sniffled. Keeping the tears from rolling down his cheeks no longer mattered to him. Now it was a great effort just to speak clearly. "Naga… why? I… I don't understand. Why is it always the young? A-am I… my age and sorrow… am I to carry it forever? She was the one who believed things could be better. She was the hero… and I the mentor, if that. She should be here today. Not me. I… I can't fix this. I don't want to walk the Earth anymore, propelled forth by rage and loss. I want to be with my loved ones again. Why… WHY can't you understand that?! YOU'VE ABANDONED US!"

"Blue!" Gaius cried to him. Pheros knelt by him.

"Chrom, please. You'll feel better when this over."

"Gah-hads. I… I'm sorry, Lissa." Chrom turned to Henry, still on his knees. "I'm sorry, Henry. I'm so sorry."

Henry slowly turned back to Chrom. To his surprise, the dark mage spoke to him directly for the first time in days. "You're sorry?" Henry slowly rose, staring at Ophelia again as he did. "I think there's someone else you should be sorry to." Henry reached into his robe and pulled out the trinket he'd bought at Shepherd's Folly. It was a wooden replica of a sword, and though Chrom honestly never spent much time with its owner, he immediately recognized the significance.

"Owain…"

"She was so much like him, you know? Owain, heh. Always talking about his cursed blood. I remember the first time he told me. I took it seriously. Then he told me it was nothing. He got me good! Nya ha ha!"

"Henry…"

Gaius was more nervous. "Henry? What are you getting at?"

Henry smiled to himself. "Owain. He looked up to his dear old dad so much. He wanted to spend time with me. Me. The three of us, Lissa, him, and I, we were like a big happy family. Except, heh, except I never had a happy family. I didn't… know what that was like. I felt… I felt like I was going to do something to mess it up. But… I didn't." Henry pointed his finger at Chrom, but he was still smiling. "You did! Not me! You of all people! Heh, heh. Ha, HAHAHA! You of all people! No one saw it coming! That's… that's HILARIOUS!"

Pheros and Gaius took a step back, and Farber and Algol exchanged uneasy glances. Chrom just hung his head. "Henry… I'm sorry."

Henry ignored him. "But… I'm not sure he ever really felt like my son. He wasn't like me at all. He was a hero. He was someone that was going to help the world. Me… well… I'm me." Henry looked down to the replica of Missiletainn. "Sometimes, even now, I wonder what Lissa saw in me. She was so sweet. So nice. And… she chooses me."

"Henry?"

"I've taken a lot from the world. I've killed a lot of people. When I was a child, I was close to a wolf. Then a village killed it, so I killed everyone in the village. The men. The women. The children. The infants. The ones who fought back. The ones who ran. The ones who begged. All of them… nya ha ha! All of them! Then I joined the army, and I killed people left and right! Just, pow! Everyday there was killing to be done. Pchew, pchew! Curses were flying everywhere! They let me do anything I wanted to Ylisseans like you and Lissa. Soldiers! Merchants! Peasants! Fathers and mothers! Sons and daughters! All slain, nya ha ha! Then I joined your Shepherds, Chrom! Oh how we killed!" Henry grew more excited and unhinged with every word, but he calmed down as he looked back to the sword. "I've taken a lot from the world… but I never gave anything back. I never created anything. Except him. I… I remember when Lissa gave birth to the younger one. Let me hold him in my hands. He was so fragile. I could have squished him right there. It wouldn't have been hard. I also remember thinking he was so beautiful. How… how could something that beautiful have come from me of all people? Owain. The one good thing I did for the world. Me? I'm just a Plegian dark mage trained from a young age to kill. There are lots of those. Owain? He was a hero. How many of those are there? I never understood why he died, and why I lived. Now… it's happened again. Ophelia is gone, and I'm still here."

Henry's words resonated with Chrom. He remembered a similar feeling when Lucina was born, and he felt the same way about Ophelia's death. Henry walked up to Ophelia's body and gently placed the sword on her chest. "Henry? What are you doing?"

"There. Now she has something to remember her father by. Heh… I'm sorry, Lissa. You can't be with our granddaughter just yet, but I'll see you soon. Really soon." Henry stood up and turned back to Chrom. "I know what I have to do now. When Lissa and Owain died, I didn't know what to do. I focused all my time on being a better dark mage, but for what? Now… I know what I have to do. In fact, I've never done a thing worth doing in my life until now."

Algol squinted at him. "He's got that look in his eyes. He's going to do something."

Gaius slowly stepped forward. "Junior?"

Henry raised his hand and began to draw some kind of dark magic from Ophelia's corpse. The energy materialized into a raven that perched on Henry's shoulder. Huginn. Everyone gave Henry an alarmed look, but he just casually played with the raven. "I can bring her back." Henry's voice was calm and casual, as if he were talking about something very simple. "I'll need to have both of my ravens absorbed for this to work, but I think I can do it."

Gaius stared incredulously at the raven that had appeared from Ophelia's body. "What the hell are you on about?! What did you just do?!"

"Like I said, I devoted my life to becoming a stronger dark mage after Lissa and Owain died. I had… nothing else in my life. Eventually I became so powerful that the dark magic began to take a toll on my body, so I sealed much of my power away in these ravens. With all of my power, I may be able to bring her back."

Algol and Farber, both familiar with dark magic themselves, began to take several steps back. Chrom stepped closer to his brother-in-law, concerned with Henry's words. "Henry, I know this must be hard on you, but you can't just use dark magic to solve everything. Ophelia is gone, and we have to accept that."

"No really! It's simple. I just have to use a time reversal curse on her. I did it to Sumia once when she dropped some bowls on the ground."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "So because it worked on bowls, it'll work on a person?! There has to be a catch."

"There is. The curse alone won't be enough to bring her back. She'll go back to being dead when it wears off. I'd have to use dark healing to save her life."

Chrom remembered the other times Henry had used dark healing. "But that requires a sacrifice. You can't ask someone to make that sacrifice, Henry."

"Yes I can." Everyone, even Chrom, stepped back, afraid Henry was about to attack, but he simply reabsorbed the raven and turned to face Ophelia. "Myself."

"What?!"

Henry simply raised his hand, and dark magic radiated from his body. "My life for hers. Heh, if only Lissa could see me now. She'd be so proud of me."

No one really believed Henry could do anything to save Ophelia until dark magic started to violently arc and crack off of him. Dirt and dust around Henry began to levitate, and spacetime around him distorted as if reality itself didn't agree with what he was doing. Green energy seeped outwards from Henry's body and into Ophelia's, and this seemed to cause Henry considerable pain, but he didn't stop. If anything, the curse became more severe by the second. Chrom tried to run up to Henry, but became disgusted when he realized everyone else was backing away. "Chrom!" Pheros shouted. "By the Earth Mother, get away from him!"

Farber just stared. "He's dark magic incarnate."

"No he's not! He's my brother, and we need to help him!"

Gaius just shook his head and spoke calmly. "Blue, what are we supposed to do?"

Chrom refused to accept that, and he flung himself forward. "Henry! There has to be another way!" He got within an arm's reach of him before a surge of dark magic flung him almost two meters backwards. Chrom forced himself up, and he and Henry met each other's eyes. "Henry, stop! PLEASE! There has to be another way!"

"If you could have died in Lucina's place, would you?"

Deep down Chrom knew the answer, and he understood how Henry felt, but he still refused to do nothing. "We can find another way!"

"I'm sorry, Chrom, but I'm just DYING to meet her again. Heh, heh. Ha, HAHAHA! BWAHAHAHAHA!" Henry continued to laugh at his own joke, but the sound of the dark magic thundering off of him eventually became deafening. Chrom tried to throw himself at him again, but the curse completed before he could. A massive wave of energy flung everyone backwards, and spacetime violently warped for a second before returning to normal. Henry fell to the ground, bright purple light shining off of his body, and Chrom ran to his side. Gaius waited until he was sure nothing else would happen, but he eventually ran to his old ally too. Chrom cradled Henry in his arms, even as the light became blinding.

"Henry, stay with us. It didn't, gods it didn't have to be this way. We could have found another way!"

Henry just gave a warm smile. "No, this is, this is good. I can be with Lissa and Owain again. A big happy family. You can see Ophelia again. That's what you wanted, right? The world needs her more than it needs me."

"Stop! We can save you! Stay with us!"

Henry reached into his robe and pulled out the tomes he created for Huginn and Muninn. "Give these to Ophelia. She'll know what to do with them. And make sure she gets the sword." Henry allowed his head to fall back. "Heh, I always wanted to have the bloodiest death possible. This isn't as painful as I wanted it to be. I guess that dream was FOR THE BIRDS! Nya ha ha!" Chrom was blinded by a flash of purple light. When he looked up again, Henry's body had disappeared into a flock of ravens that flew off into the sky, leaving everyone stunned.

"Yeesh, Junior. Even in death you're strange." Gaius said in a dejected, but tranquil tone. Gaius was saddened at what happened to Henry, but he was also accepting of it. He knew they couldn't have changed Henry's mind. He looked over to Chrom, but he wasn't taking it as well. Chrom was shivering and taking very short breaths. When he slowly brought his eyes to Gaius', he could see that they were choked with tears, but Chrom didn't allow himself to cry out. He just stood there, bitterly fighting back his pain. Gaius knew Chrom could have stayed like that indefinitely, and he knew Chrom would never try to show any weakness. For all that, Gaius also knew he wanted someone to be there for him. The two men rose to their feet, and Gaius gently placed his hand on Chrom's shoulder. Chrom finally broke down, and the two embraced.

"Gah-hah-hads!"

"Shh. Blue. It's okay."

"I'm sorry!"

"Hey, come on. Just get it all out." Tears began to fall down Gaius' own cheeks, and he was just glad Chrom couldn't see his face. "I'm going to miss him too."

The two old friends just held each other for a few seconds, and the four Arch Surg officers gave solemn expressions as they gathered around. Then, still lying behind everyone, Ophelia slowly took a breath.

* * *

Just as he was ordered to, the recon soldiers Dartsmoth sent out stopped their carriage just outside the entrance of a Grimleal slaver's camp. An ancient evil that has been with every civilization in existence in some form or another, slavery was alive and well in the Grimleal's new world order. Gangrel and Aversa largely looked the other way, and so individual Lord Lieutenants were given the choice of legalizing it in their sectors or not. Many willingly took advantage of the profits, making slaving a state sanctioned operation in their sectors. Only a few banned it, but even then the slaving enterprises were active in the local black markets. With their operations protected by Lord Lieutenants in other sectors, it was nigh impossible to stop them.

Soleil had told herself the entire way there that she would fight to her last breath to resist the Grimleal soldiers, but there wasn't much she could do when one of them had a pistol pointed at her face. As the carriage came to a stop, the driver got out and helped his comrade force Soleil outside. For a brief moment she was able to fight back, even with her hands bound, and she managed to strike one of the soldiers in the head, but the other man quickly pointed his pistol at her once more. Soleil's gums seared with pain after what Dartsmoth did to her, and her blood now burned hot with rage, but no amount of determination and fury could save her if the man pulled the trigger. Reluctantly, Soleil looked down to her feet and walked forward as the recon soldiers pushed her towards the camp. The last steps she'd take as a free woman.

The slavers were quick to notice the carriage's arrival, and a rather intimidating man was sent to greet the Grimleal soldiers. He resembled a berserker. He didn't wear much besides pants and shoes, and his bare chest had a red mark of Grima painted over it. An actual tattoo, required for all Grimleal personnel, could be found on his shoulder. The man was also armed with a large club slung over his back, simple but intimidating. Strangely, the man's face was covered by a metal mask depicting a stylized sun with a human face in it. The face's expression was stuck in a grimace. "Well, well." The man grunted in a brutish voice. "4th Army soldiers. It's always good news when our boys in uniform pull up. Did you bring us a prisoner you don't want to feed anymore?"

"Good eye." The recon soldier jabbed Soleil in the back with the barrel of his pistol, almost causing her to trip into the man. "We need to get rid of this one." Soleil noticed the man wasn't looking at her, and she took the opportunity to kick out the other soldier's knee. She then repeatedly struck at the first soldier, keeping him from aiming. "Agh! A little help here?!"

The man just stood and stared, carefully watching Soleil's movements. "She ain't ours yet. I can't damage someone else's property."

"I'M NOBODY'S PROPERTY!" Soleil struck the man's bare chest with as much force as she could muster, but he didn't even flinch. The mercenary briefly froze in regret, and the first soldier was able to seize his pistol and strike her in the face with the butt of it.

"Bitch! Damn it! I am so sick of this! Look, just take her off our hands."

"Permission to inspect her?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Soleil threw herself back to her feet. "You're not laying a hand on me-" The man just ignored her and grabbed her head. Soleil tried striking him, and she resisted being grabbed as much as she could, but nothing she did so much as moved the man. With her hands bound, there wasn't much she could do against a man well over twice her weight.

"Hmm. Young woman. We always have a demand for those. Passably attractive. Physically fit. Looks healthy."

"GET OFF OF ME!"

The man ignored her still. He looked Soleil over as if she were an animal, and he even forced her mouth open. Soleil hoped she'd be able to at least bite him, but the man was too strong to allow her jaw to close. "Ooh. Missing a tooth."

The Grimleal soldier shrugged. "Who cares? Who buys a slave for their teeth?!"

The man let Soleil go. "I'll give you standard price for a young woman like this. 14,000."

"14,000? I don't think I can do that. How about 18,000?"

"14,000."

"You fops can go to hell!" Soleil roared as she tried kicking the man in his knee. He still resisted her attacks, and the conversation continued.

"Come on, man. I've seen slaves go at auction for more than 18,000."

"We're a business here. That's how much we'll get at auction. I got to make money. Plus she might sit around our camp for weeks. Best I can do is 14,500."

"Are you sure you can't do more? How about 16,000?"

"Listen, I got a buddy of mine who specializes in young women with missing teeth. If you want I can call him down here."

Giving up on attacking the larger man, Soleil struck at the second soldier. Without a gun to defend himself, he tried fighting with his fists, but Soleil's ferocity and rage drove him back. It was everything he had to keep her from bolting away. "Just sell her damn it!"

"Alright, alright. 14,500."

"Pleasure doing business with you." The man signalled back to the camp, and another slaver walked up to him. "These gentlemen are getting 14,500 for her. Go write them up."

"Just get her already!" The second soldier cried. Without an instant of hesitation, the large man jabbed Soleil in the back. She fell to her knees, and before she could even think about counterattacking, the man grabbed her shoulders and forced her to her back. He then callously grabbed her leg and dragged her into the camp, Soleil roaring at him the entire way. The two Grimleal soldiers looked at her until she disappeared from their view. "I almost feel bad for her."

The first soldier shook his head. "One less rebel, one more woman in her place."

The man dragged Soleil about halfway through the camp before he let her go. Soleil rose to her feet just in time to be set upon by two more muscular men, and the three forced her forward. Soleil was more free in her movements without a gun in her face, but for all her training, all her experience, there was nothing she could do to resist the strength of three men. Nothing she did or said mattered. The men were disinterested and apathetic, as if they'd done this a million times before, and they overpowered everything she tried to do. It was an absolutely horrifying experience to not have any control of her movements. To be entirely at other people's mercy. Still, Soleil resisted the entire way, making the men have to fight her for every step, and the struggle slowly attracted the attention of everyone in the camp. The slavers looked on in annoyance, while a handful of slaves, long since processed, looked on in wonder. One woman, surrounded by slavers and two armored Grimleal soldiers, was particularly interested. She took in Soleil's every move as the men forced her to bend over a table, and a small smile appeared on her weathered face. "A fighter, I see."

The soldier beside turned his head. "Ma'am?"

"I think I'll deal with this one personally."

The three men finally succeeded in forcing Soleil down, and two of them held her there while the larger man yelled towards slavers in front of a tent. "Brand!"

Several of the slavers gave rather sadistic cheers and repeated the word. "Brand! Brand!" They shouted as a slaver approached with the object in question. Soleil couldn't see what was happening, but her fury was slowly becoming fear. "W-what? What is that?! Tell me!"

One of her captors just smiled at her. "Oh, you'll feel it soon enough."

A slaver slowly approached Soleil with a heated branding iron, but he was stopped by the woman as she approached. She had the slaver follow her as she walked over to the front of the table, and she smiled at Soleil as the mercenary slowly brought her head up to see her. The woman looked entirely out of place with the slavers, and yet these cruel and thuggish men all seemed to hold her in respect. She was at least sixty years old, her face tired and wrinkled, and all the color in her shoulder length hair was long gone. Still, it was straight and smooth, and the woman clearly took great care of it. The woman's silver dress was long and elegant, and golden jewellery adorned her body. She looked like she belonged in Ylisstol, not in a rural camp surrounded by shirtless, barbaric men and Grimleal soldiers, yet she acted as if she were right at home. "Ah, there's a lot of fight left in you, child. We'll have quite the challenge breaking you."

Soleil struggled against the men. "You'll never break me! Grimmie trash!"

"Oh, but they all say that. I guarantee you will fall into your new place soon enough. There is always a market for young women."

"H-how can you say that?! You're a woman!"

The woman looked inquisitively at Soleil. "And that means we have a connection? I have seen all aspects of this economy, and it has taught me a lot about human nature." The woman had a strange, foreign accent, and even with all the trauma Soleil found herself enduring now, she couldn't help but find it… sexy. "Women turn on women. Men turn on men. Women turn on men, and men turn on women. Parents turn on children, and children turn on parents. These things, they do not matter. Oui. There are only two groups that matter. Predators and prey. Wolves and sheep."

Soleil wasn't entirely listening. She aimlessly daydreamed about the woman in front of her. What she might have looked like when she was younger. Even how Soleil would have approached her if she'd ever met her younger self. Soleil was angry, but the seriousness of everything that had just happened still failed to dawn on her, and she was slowly going back to her normal absentmindedness. "I'm sorry, but… how do you do that with your hair?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's so… gorgeous. It's just… I'm sorry. Were you trying to monologue?" Soleil looked at the woman more closely. For her regal appearance, she actually had a tattoo running along her arm. It seemed to say something, but Soleil couldn't make it out. "What is that gibberish on your arm? Some Grimleal crap?"

"Oh this?" The woman held up her arm. "Homo homini lupus est."

"Huh?"

"Just an archaic language they used to speak in my homeland, but not anymore. Ce que je dis maintenant est la belle langue qu'ils parlent à la maison."

"What?!"

"You should learn to speak my tongue, mademoiselle. It would mask your barbaric sensibilities." The woman slowly took the branding iron from the slaver beside her. "Get her ready. I will handle this personally."

Soleil could see the branding iron this time, and she froze up. "W-what are you doing? N-no! No, no! What are you doing?"

One of the men produced a knife and cut open Soleil's shirt until almost all of her bare back was visible. Soleil struggled more furiously than ever, but still the men held her. As violated and terrified as Soleil felt in that moment, it was nothing compared to what was coming. A twisted smile on her face, the woman maneuvered behind Soleil, held up the branding iron for all the slavers to see, and jammed it into her back. The slavers in the camp cheered, but Soleil's piercing scream could be heard over everything else.

* * *

As Soleil was taken to the slave markets, Caeldori was forced into a seperate carriage. Her destination was The Rockpile, where she had once lead the only successful escape attempt in the installation's history. In Caeldori's mind, it was all a symbol of her failures. Since meeting up with Chrom, Tiki had been captured, Ophelia and Cordelia had been killed, and Caeldori herself was without a home or family. To further add to the sting, Caeldori and her allies still hadn't inflicted any real losses on the Grimleal. The Pegasus Knight had struggled her entire life with the pressure of having to follow in her grandmother's path, but now it seemed even what little she had was being stripped away.

But Caeldori was also a woman that wouldn't stop fighting. She didn't focus on her sorrow or loss, but instead on her hatred of the Grimleal in front of her. While two of the Grimleal soldiers took to driving the carriage, two more, including the lead scout, rode in the back with Caeldori. Though only her hands were bound, Caeldori refused to speak. Refused to give them anything. She just stared daggers at the lower ranking soldier in front of her, never deviating. The man's own expression was hidden beneath his metal helmet, but it was clearly getting to him. "Damn it, woman! Look at something else!"

Caeldori just continued her glare.

"Don't mind the prisoner." The lead scout said to his subordinate. "You won't have to see her again once we get to The Rockpile. No one will ever see her again."

Caeldori just continued glaring at the lower ranking soldier, not even turning to look at the lead scout. The one act of defiance she was capable of. The soldier nervously shifted around, and he eventually turned to his superior. "Why the hell are we in a carriage anyways? Why couldn't we Faraskjótr over to The Rockpile?"

"Aversa and her highest ranking agents are using it a lot lately, so the thing is constantly on cooldown. Dartsmoth may be an inquisitor, but even his use is limited. Army soldiers like us can't use it at all."

"But we're working with Dartsmoth!"

"Not officially. He just kind of forced us to. This is what bureaucracy gets you."

"We're not taking a carriage all the way to western Ylisse are we?"

"Hell no. We'll just dump her off at the nearest army base. Wyvern riders can take her from there. Not our problem anymore."

The carriage continued a little ways before the distant sound of howling could be heard. As time passed, the howling grew louder. Caeldori wondered if it just seemed that way because of how dead quiet things were in the back, but she swore the noise was genuinely getting louder. Then, with no other warning, the furious shriek of an animal could be heard, but this was no wild beast. It was the carriage horses that had cried out, and it was a noise of primal fear and agony. The soldiers driving the carriage followed shortly after. "SON OF A CHEAP CHON'SIN HARLOT!" The soldier's voice was both furious and terrified, and a gunshot was heard immediately after.

"Lancepesade?!" The lead scout shouted towards the front of the carriage. The man didn't respond, but the horses continued to cry out. Caeldori even thought she heard snarling of some kind. "What in Grima's name is happening out there? Stay here!"

The second soldier nodded. "Yes, sir."

The lead scout drew his carbine and stepped outside the carriage. For the first time in an hour, Caeldori looked away from the other soldier and watched him depart. Outside the horses continued to scream until suddenly stopping. A gunshot could be heard, but Caeldori didn't hear anything else from the Grimleal soldiers. The situation was getting to her, but she kept a cool head. This could have been her opportunity to escape after all.

A loud gunshot could be heard just outside the carriage, and Caeldori realized this was probably the lead scout. "Future Witness' tiara! I hate these little buggers. Get out here, private soldier!"

The second soldier looked back to Caeldori. "But you said-"

The lead scout suddenly screamed, and his voice got fainter by the second. As if something was moving him. "PRIVAAAAATE!"

The second soldier looked between Caeldori and the outside of the carriage. "Aw hell." The man jumped outside and visibly tensed up at whatever it was he was seeing. "By the Emperor's pelvis! Coming, sir!"

The soldier ran off, leaving Caeldori alone. Though she'd be lying if she said everything happening wasn't alarming to her, she didn't allow herself to hesitate for an instant. Escape would be impossible if she was taken to a military installation. It would have to be now, no matter what was waiting for her outside. Looking down to her handcuffs, Caeldori placed her damaged metal prosthetic on her left hand and applied as much pressure as she could to her thumb. "Alright. Deep breath. Here we go." After a few failed attempts, Caeldori managed to dislocate her own thumb. "AARGH! Son of a pickle eater! Hrrgh." Allowing herself only a few seconds to deal with the pain, Caeldori pulled on her handcuffs. With her thumb now bent out of place, she was able to slowly slide her left hand out. Though the handcuffs were still attached to her right wrist, she now had free use of her hands. With another deep breath, Caeldori popped her thumb back into place, took just a few more seconds to recover, and sprinted out of the carriage.

It was late at night, and Caeldori had a hard time time seeing more than a few meters in front of her, but she didn't care. She just bolted forward as quickly as she could. She ran until her legs ached and her muscles begged for rest, and then she kept running. She covered well over two kilometers before she finally fell to her knees and allowed herself a moment of reprieve. In between her furious breaths, Caeldori slowly began to smile. "It's, *pant* it's over. I… I did it." It was then that she heard the same snarling from before.

Caeldori rose to her feet and slowly turned to see two wolves, visibly starved, prowling around in front of her. As the exact fate of the carriage dawned on her, a third wolf charged behind Caeldori. She turned at the sounds of snarling just an instant before the wolf was on top of her, and so was facing the beast directly when it tackled her to her back. Desperately trying to keep a cool head, Caeldori realized that the wolf would surely go for her neck, and she threw her left arm in front of her as the wolf tried to go for the killing blow. After a few seconds of trying to force it out of the way, the wolf finally bit down, sinking its teeth through Caeldori's muscles and down to the bone. It was pain beyond almost anything Caeldori had endured before, but she hadn't come this far to lie down and die. Channeling her pain and fear into anger, Caeldori furiously struck at the wolf with her right hand until the beast retreated with a yelp. Realizing that her metal hand could make for a makeshift club, Caeldori readied her emergency weapon and beat the wolf back as it charged again. The wolf stepped back, but the creature still readied itself for another attack. Caeldori then remembered that two more wolves were nearby, and she turned as they both charged at her. Though she beat one back with her prosthetic, the other seized her leg and tripped her up. The first followed suit, and the wolves began to forcibly pull her forwards. Thankfully her boots gave her legs some protection, but Caeldori didn't have the strength to resist being dragged, and she was only stopped when the third wolf bit down on her already injured left arm again and pulled in another direction. For a few agonizing moments Caeldori's body was forcibly pulled in two different directions, and in her suffering she lost the ability to think. Her mind was consumed entirely by primal fear and emotion, and she almost wanted to just give up. For all the suffering that she'd endured in the past few weeks, why keep fighting? Then, without her actively thinking about it, an image just popped into her head. Cordelia's face, smiling down on her granddaughter.

"Grandmother." Caeldori thought to herself, almost automatically. "What would you do? You had an answer for everything. What would you do?!" As Caeldori felt the first two wolves sink their teeth through her boots, and as the third wolf continued to tear at her now very bloodied left arm, Caeldori's mind was filled with memories of her grandmother. All the stories she'd told her. All the battles Cordelia had been in. The veteran Pegasus Knight had faced down Plegian and Valmese soldiers. Brigands and pirates. Generations of Grimleal. Armies of Risen. How could Caeldori call herself her granddaughter if she fell to animals? "I know." Caeldori said aloud this time. "You wouldn't give up! Gaah! Come here beasties!" Mustering her remaining strength, Caeldori reached out and struck the wolf on her arm with her metal prosthetic until it finally let go. Focusing on her legs, Caeldori struggled until she managed to slide her right leg out of her boot, leaving it in the wolf's mouth, and then kicked the other wolf with her bare foot. She then threw herself up, only to cut said foot on a jagged rock as she tried to regain her balance. "Gaargh! Give me a danged break!"

But Caeldori remembered the importance of keeping a cool head. Thinking more clearly, she realized the rock could help her, and she took it as the wolf that had been on her arm attacked again. Caeldori furiously struck at it, alternating between the rock and her metal prosthetic until the wolf fell still. Briefly stunned by her success, Caeldori didn't move in time to prevent another wolf from tackling her in the back, but she managed to avoid losing her footing. She desperately stumbled forward, and in trying to get at her neck, the wolf accidentally got a mouthful of her hair. Feeling that the wolf had failed to bite her, Caeldori threw herself forward and escaped the creature's grasp. She screamed in pain as strands of her hair went down with the wolf, but it was nothing like what she'd endured so far. Caeldori turned and charged at it, but the wolf reared up on its hind legs and tried to bite and paw at her. Even a starved wolf was too powerful for a woman of Caeldori's height and weight to grapple with, but still the Pegasus Knight approached the situation tactically. Rather than furiously try to push the wolf back, Caeldori allowed herself to fall back in a controlled manner. As the wolf pushed her down, she maneuvered her legs under it and used the momentum to kick it upwards and behind her. She then rolled over, surged forward, and savagely assaulted the creature with her prosthetic before it could recover.

With two of the wolves down, Caeldori turned and readied herself against the third. This wolf moved slowly, carefully watching Caeldori's every move, but it was far too hungry to retreat. Charging at her, Caeldori tried to hurl the rock at the creature, but her arm was too injured to muster the strength she needed. The rock bounced off the ground, and the wolf was able to knock her back. Again Caeldori's left arm suffered a severe bite as she threw it forward to protect her neck. By now her arm was coated with blood, and Caeldori could see far more of her actual muscle than she ever wanted to, but she still had to think about things tactically. She couldn't risk injuring her right arm and losing the ability to strike with her prosthetic. "Argh! I hate dogs!" Caeldori forced the wolf back with several hits from her metal hand before kicking it off of her. Rising to her feet, Caeldori raised her arms and prepared herself as the wolf resumed prowling around her. "Come on. Do it. Do it! Come on! I dare you!" The wolf finally attacked, and Caeldori yelled back. "A Pegasus Knight is not afraid of anything!" Forcing herself to hold still until the moment the wolf was on her, Caeldori dodged the wolf's strike and struck it down with her prosthetic. With a few more hits, each one punctuated by a battle cry, Caeldori finally managed to kill the creature, ending the fight.

"I did it. Heh, I did it." Caeldori smiled and took a few steps forward. The adrenaline coursing through her body dulled much of the pain she was feeling, but Caeldori still knew she'd taken several bad injuries. Looking down to her left arm, she saw just how badly savaged it was, and this was only the most pressing of her many wounds. Caeldori felt more light headed as she took more steps, and her walk became a stumble. "I don't feel so good. I'd better treat these… I'd better… I…" Caeldori fell to her knees. "Grandmother… help…" With a final look at her arm, Caeldori passed out.

* * *

Chrom and Ophelia stood together, solemnly looking at what was supposed to be the Chosen Heroine's gravesite. The hole was filled, though there was obviously nothing in it, and the marker now had a name etched into it. Henry.

"He gave his life to save me." Ophelia said. Her voice was raspy, and she coughed occasionally, but Chrom could tell she meant to speak softly. He placed his hand on Ophelia's shoulder. Though his grandniece looked up with sorrow in her eyes, Chrom just returned a warm smile.

"He loved you, Ophelia."

Ophelia sighed. "I didn't know him that well, but still. He was family. The only family I had… except you. I can't believe he's gone. I can still barely believe what happened to me. And… Soleil and Caeldori. Was there really nothing you could do?"

Chrom shivered, and his own voice choked up. "Ophelia… I'm sorry. That man, that monster, would have killed us… but not a moment goes by that I don't worry about them. I promise so long as the slightest possibility that they're alive exists, I will do everything I can to find them."

Ophelia slowly smiled. "Thank you. You know, they've been captured by the Grimleal before. They're tougher than you think." Ophelia looked to the grave. "I'll miss him… but I've lost Cordelia and my mother before. I'll get through this."

"I know you will."

Ophelia was silent for awhile, and she seemed to be deep in thought. "So you gave up the Falchion?"

"I did. I can't expect you to understand why, but I had to."

Ophelia sighed, clearly not agreeing with Chrom's decision, but she also gave a small smile. "Well, what if you had a do over?" Ophelia reached into her robe. Chrom wondered what she was doing, but he never would have guessed that she'd pull out the divine blade of his family itself. Or rather, a divine blade. "Good thing I still have this."

Chrom took a step back, having honestly forgotten about the Parallel Falchion until now. "What?! That's been on you this entire time?"

"Kept safe in my inventory."

"How deep is this inventory?"

Ophelia placed her hands on her hips. "A gentleman doesn't ask about a lady's inventory!"

"Uh… sorry."

Ophelia held it by the handle and handed it to Chrom. "Anyways, maybe you should take it. You need a sword."

Chrom caressed the blade with his finger, and he smiled as it cut him. The blade was as sharp in Ophelia's hands as it had been in Lucina's. "No."

"Huh?"

"Keep it. This sword belongs in the hands of a heroine."

"But…" Ophelia looked at the sword in wonder, but she still seemed hesitant. "I'm a mage."

"I could teach you. Train you." Chrom took a step forward. "I haven't been fair to you, Ophelia. I slammed the door in your face when we first met, and though I followed you and Soleil and Caeldori, I didn't really believe the world could be saved as you did. You deserve more from me. From now on, I'll do more than just fight with you. Kill with you. You need a mentor. You need someone who will be with you without hesitation. You need family, and I haven't really been that to you before. It's nothing less than a miracle that you're here now, Ophelia, and I won't be a bitter old man anymore. If you need me, for anything, I'll be here." Ophelia looked like she was about to say something, but she only managed to smile and sniffle. Though he briefly thought about whether it was appropriate or not, Chrom decided to wrap his arms around her, and Ophelia embraced him even more tightly. "I'm sorry about Henry."

"You're all I have left." Ophelia whimpered, but there was also determination in her voice. "Thank you for everything. I love you."

Chrom allowed himself a genuine moment of peace for the first time that day. "I love you too." Chrom and Ophelia looked into each other's eyes and smiled. "This is a perfect moment. Nothing can ruin it."

"Are you sure you want to be that close to her?" Algol jeered from a distance. "She might have voided her bowels when she died."

"... I stand corrected."

Ophelia looked at the Arch Surg nervously. "Chrom, why are you with them again?"

"It's a long story, but whatever happens, we'll face it together."

(For the rest of this act, Soleil and Caeldori will be independent of Chrom. They'll meet their own supporting characters, face their own foes, and become heroes in their own right. The story will be split between Chrom and Ophelia's story, Soleil's story, and Caeldori's story. These chapters can be presented in any order, so feel free to let me know if you want to see more of a certain character first.)


	47. The Exalted Path: The Maw

The following day, Chrom, Ophelia, Gaius, and the four Arch Surg officers prepared to enter The Saltworks itself. Hundreds of people waited to be able to enter the city's main gate, and more were always entering the line. Pheros wasn't kidding when she said it would take hours to enter. The Grimleal only admitted a few people every few minutes.

Ophelia stood by herself as Chrom talked Pheros and Farber. She tried to stand by Chrom's side and follow the conversations at first, but she became distracted as a raven of all things flew overhead and perched on the roof of the inn the group had come out of. Ophelia stared solemnly, knowing full well where it came from, and she wondered if it was really there at all until Gaius walked up. "I'm… I'm sorry about your grandfather, Blondie. Still, it was kind of beautiful when he died. No corpse or anything. Just ravens. Beautiful… and also weird. Very weird."

Ophelia pulled out the tomes for Huginn and Muninn. "He wanted me to have these?"

"He did. He said you knew what they were?"

Ophelia nodded. "He told me he created two ravens as manifestations of his power when it became too much for his body to handle." Ophelia smiled to herself, but it was a quiet, disheartened smile. "This is the kind of forbidden magic I hoped he'd be able to teach me, ever since I first saw him. I should be happy… but I also just wanted a grandfather. To get to know him."

Gaius rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to cheer Ophelia up. He could at least try to change the conversation. "So how do those work exactly?"

"Well using the tomes summons a raven. I can then absorb their power. If I use the tome again, the ravens will be recreated from my body." Ophelia looked back to the raven. "Maybe that's one of them now?"

"So those ravens will follow you as long as you have the tomes?" Ophelia shrugged, and Gaius smiled to her. "Then I guess… in a way… he's still with you. Even in the end he was still thinking about you, Blondie."

Ophelia seemed to cheer up slightly. "I guess you're right. In a way, he'll always be with us. I still don't understand how he saved me, though. You said something about a time reversal curse? Dark healing?"

Gaius shrugged. "I have no idea. I'm just saying what he told us when he did it. Hell I was married to a dark mage and I still don't understand them."

"It's just that I've seen him use dark healing and that time reversal curse. He always used other people for dark healing, and he literally reversed thirty years worth of desertification in an instant after he absorbed both ravens. I don't think he had to sacrifice himself."

"You're wondering why he didn't just murder some Grimmie?"

Ophelia paused. That was what she was getting at, but she didn't like the idea of it. "I guess he could have… but that doesn't seem very heroic. I don't like the idea of him hunting down some soldier to sacrifice, even if it is a Grimleal soldier."

"That's just it, Ophelia. I'm sure he knew you and Chrom wouldn't have wanted him to do that. Junior has had problems understanding other people's feelings his entire life, but he did want you to look up to him. Rather than sacrifice someone involuntarily and have you live in fear of him, he chose to sacrifice himself to prove that he really did care about you. You would be scared of him if he did something like that, wouldn't you? He knew that, and he didn't want you to fear him. To fear dark magic."

"... you're right. That would be upsetting. Still, if he had done that… I'd still have a grandfather."

"Well it was his decision. He loved you, Ophelia, and he loved your father and grandmother. Just know that."

Ophelia looked back to the raven and smiled. "I love you too, grandfather. I'm glad I met you, even if we weren't together very long."

The raven just cawed, voided its bowels, and took to the air. As Ophelia herself had once said, it wasn't any different from a regular bird. Ophelia and Gaius turned back as Chrom and the Arch Surg returned. Pheros had several official looking documents in her hand, and she handed papers to Chrom and Gaius. "Alright, we're ready to move."

Gaius took the paper and scanned it. "Forged documents?"

"As I said to Chrom, the Grimleal monitors traffic in and out of major cities. We're not getting in without valid traveling papers."

Gaius looked over his document more carefully. It identified him as "Guire" and listed his occupation as stable boy. "Aw hell no! This is degrading!"

"What else are you going to do?"

"Chrom may have been a hermit for the past twenty years, but I have valid traveling papers. I don't need yours."

"Are you sure they're still on you? Are you sure they weren't taken along with your other weapons and goggles when you were brought to Fort Morgan?"

Gaius remembered everything the Arch Surg had stolen from him. He only got his arquebus back. "Damn it! What kind of name is Guire anyways?!"

Chrom looked over his own forged document. It identified him as "Chuck", and claimed that he worked for something called the West Valmese Trading Company. It also listed Pheros as his wife, and Ophelia as his daughter. "Huh?! We're a m-married couple?!"

"Oh grow up. All you have to do is stand next to me."

"Why is Ophelia our daughter?!"

"Ophelia represents a problem. We had documents for Henry, but not her. We can't just make new ones out of thin air. However, my papers identify me as a representative of a Grimleal trading company. I can justify bringing associates with me for business purposes."

Ophelia frowned. "But why am I your daughter?!"

"I can't bring business associates with me if they don't have traveling papers themselves, but perhaps I can justify bringing a close family member like, for example, a daughter if my trade required me to move around frequently. We made the necessary alterations to the existing documents last night. Be careful not to smudge that ink, by the way. The Grimleal only uses one kind of ink for these types of documents, and it wasn't easy to steal." Pheros looked Chrom up and down. "Besides, if we were together, she looks like she could have come from us. Doesn't she?"

Chrom became flustered. "I-I don't think that's appropriate!"

"Oh, my mistake. I thought we were all adults here. Apparently I was wrong."

Algol walked up to Pheros. Behind him, Farber and Cervantes began to walk away. "We're heading out."

"And we're following you?" Chrom asked. Pheros shook her head.

"No. We're not traveling as a group. We will not do anything that risks attracting attention. We'll enter the line at different times. Algol, Cervantes, and Farber will go by themselves. You too, 'Guire'. You and Ophelia will go with me, but only because we're supposed to be a family. We'll split up as soon as we enter the city."

"How will we get to the safehouse if you can't lead us there?"

"You'll have to make it yourselves. We cannot risk attracting attention to the safehouse by moving as a group. That's how we've always done it." Pheros motioned for Gaius and Ophelia to get closer. "The outer areas of city are heavily urbanized. Buildings are tightly packed. Usually you'll see rows of six buildings at a time. Make your way to the city's eastern district."

"How do we know where that is?"

"The city is divided into four districts, so just make your way to the right of the southern gate, the one we're entering, until the signs literally say eastern district. An idiot could do it. Follow the main roads until you reach a statue of the Emperor."

Chrom's eyes widened. "Gangrel?!"

"Yes. Your old friend. It's called Imperial Square, and a marble statue about three meters tall can be found right in the middle of the street. To the left of this statue, when facing it, you'll see a lot of businesses. Rows of them. Each row has a unique color on the doors of each business. When you get to a row of entirely red doors, our safehouse will be the third building from the left. It's called 'Throb'."

Gaius squinted. "What the hell kind of name is Throb?"

"I didn't pick it. Does everyone have all that? No one will be able to tell you again once we go our separate ways." The three nodded. "Alright. You three can meet up again at the safehouse. We'll likely already be inside."

Gaius thought about it. "So we can just walk in? There won't be any security?"

"Of course not. When you get inside, and this is very important, you'll need to find an employee. Tell him or her this exact phrase. 'We're looking for backroom entertainment.'"

"What kind of statement is that?" Gaius said in disgust. "Is there anything about the Arch Surg that isn't ridiculous?"

"Well we can't go with an obvious statement. What were you expecting? 'Ey, where the insurrectionists at?' The employee will take you to a hidden hallway. You'll be asked for a password. Remember it, because they will not be happy if you don't know it. The password is 'Molasses'."

Chrom nodded. "Got it."

Pheros turned to see Cervantes and Farber had already left to enter the city. "Alright. Let's get going. One last thing. The Grimleal does not allow any weapons in the city. No exceptions."

Ophelia looked alarmed, and she drew the Parallel Falchion. "They'll take this!"

"Don't worry, Blondie." Gaius responded. "These big cities will register your weapons, but you can get them back when you leave."

"But we can't give them the Falchion!"

Pheros thought about it. "I was assuming they'd think of it as a replica from Shepherd's Folly, but that Grimleal soldier, Wolcroft, did tell us that they took the Falchion you left behind there seriously. Hmm." Pheros turned to Algol, who was about to leave himself. "Algol!"

"Huh?"

Pheros rather callously seized the sword from Ophelia and handed it to the former cultist. "Change of plans. You're staying here. We can't risk registering this with the city authorities."

"Hey!" Ophelia turned to her great uncle. "Chrom!"

Pheros gave Chrom a very casual look, as if she expected him to understand. He did, and he couldn't see a way around it. "I think she's right, Ophelia. We can't take that with us.'

"But-" Ophelia seemed hurt and frustrated that Chrom didn't take her side. Chrom remembered that Ophelia hadn't seen the Arch Surg officers since the battle at the homestead, and she had no reason to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Algol smiled as he held the Falchion up by the blade. The divine weapon was only sharp in the hands of a descendant of the Hero King, and in Algol's hands it was little more than a club. "Well look at that. Never thought I'd hold this baby. Heh, Algol's moving up in life."

Ophelia glared at him. "It's not yours!"

"It ain't yours either, witch. I recall it belongs to a certain blue haired lass."

Pheros stepped closer to him. "That's enough, Algol!"

Algol gave a thuggish smile and used the Falchion to scratch his back. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of it."

Ophelia groaned, visibly recoiling at the sight of her sword going up and down Algol's bare back. Pheros just gave her comrade an annoyed look, but she didn't seem to want to argue any further. "Now what exactly do you two have on you?"

Chrom drew the Carrot Axe with one hand and the Thundergrypp with the other. "Just these. I also have spare powder and shot for the pistol. Will they take that?"

"They'll definitely take your weapons, but the supplies should be fine by themselves. What about you?" Ophelia drew a surprisingly large number of items from her robe. She pulled out the tomes for Huginn and Muninn, a fire tome, a thunder tome, her Missiletainn tome, the wooden replica of Owain's Missiletainn that Henry left for her, several diamonds and other gems, vulneraries, and several small books that didn't look like tomes. She also pulled out a simple brown rag, but it was very familiar to Chrom. Pheros looked over the items. Though her stoic look didn't disappear, even she was surprised on how much Ophelia was carrying. "The tomes will all have to be registered. Same with the vulneraries. Everything else should be fine, but try to hide those gems. Some Grimleal officials have sticky fingers."

Gaius smiled to himself. "The people who make laws use their power for their own benefit? Why I'd never."

Algol walked over. The menace he normally had in his voice was gone, replaced by an almost childlike excitement. "Those books. Is that Captain Grimleal?"

Ophelia perked up. "You know Captain Grimleal?!"

"By the Fell Dragon, it's only my favorite book!"

Chrom did a double take between the two. "Huh?"

Pheros sighed. "About twenty years ago the Grimleal invented something they call the printing press. It allows you to mass produce written works. No longer does every book need to be written by hand. For the most part they've used it to create state sanctioned propaganda. Captain Grimleal is a fictional character they created to appeal to children. To teach them government approved values. To brainwash them, basically."

Chrom glanced over to Ophelia, who had a grin on her face as she picked up one of the booklets. "Is this true, Ophelia? Why do you have these stories?"

"It's true. Captain Grimleal was created as propaganda. I could tell even when I was a little girl." Her expression saddened. "I've always loved to read, Chrom, but books were rare when I was growing up. My mother couldn't afford any. Books were very expensive when every single one was handwritten. Then they invented the printing press, and then they started making these stories. I remember when they came out with Captain Grimleal. They gave them out for free. It gave me something to read. I still have a soft spot for these stories. They were part of my childhood." Ophelia gave Chrom a determined look. "It's not like they brainwashed me! The Grimleal took away my mother. No matter what these stories tell me to think about the Grimleal, that will always be true. I know they're evil."

Algol picked up one of Ophelia's booklets and flipped through it. "Issue #141! Ha! I love this one!"

Ophelia gave him a confused look. "But he fights the Arch Surg in that one?"

Algol shrugged. "I can't actually read. Validar didn't teach me. I like the picture it comes with though. The Arch Surg officer he's punching looks just like Pheros!"

Pheros gritted her teeth. "These stories are for children. I can therefore see why they appeal to Algol, but why do you like them, Ophelia? I thought you'd be smarter than this."

"Hey! I know some of the original issues were pretty obvious propaganda. I mean he fights the Shepherds in the very first one, and the picture on the front even shows him punching Robin in the face."

"Huh?!" Chrom exclaimed. Ophelia continued.

"But the writers have a lot more freedom now. They've turned him into a nuanced character. He tackles a lot of complex social issues in the newer ones." Ophelia picked up another booklet and handed it to Chrom. "Like this one. It's all about women in the workplace."

Chrom took the booklet and opened it. A picture printed on the front page depicted Captain Grimleal himself. He was a tall, muscular man with a tight suit, so tight that it seemed painted on. The Mark of Grima was emblazoned on his chest. The man's face was largely covered by a mask, but his eyes and lower jaw were visible, and the man gave a cheery smile. His only weapon was a large shield, the Mark of Grima also visible on it. Chrom then turned a few pages and read several paragraphs of Captain Grimleal arguing about how women had the right to breastfeed in the workplace. "Well… that certainly is… something."

Ophelia collected her Captain Grimleal booklets and gems. "Well… I guess we all have silly little things we like." Ophelia was about to reach for the brown rag she'd taken out, but Chrom stopped her. "Hmm?"

"Ophelia… is that-"

Ophelia slowly nodded. "Cordelia's blindfold. When she died I… I took it." Her voice cracked. "I just… wanted something to remember her by. I'm sorry. This must be hard for you."

Chrom took it in his own hand and shivered. "I… oh gods."

"I'm sorry, Chrom. Maybe it was wrong of me."

Chrom wanted to reassure Ophelia that it wasn't, but the emotions the blindfold brought back overwhelmed him, and he couldn't bring himself to speak. He could only stand in place and tremble as memories of the woman it memorialized filled his head. The two stood in silence for several seconds until Pheros called to them. Ophelia turned and walked forward before Chrom could return the blindfold, so he put it in his own pocket. "We'll be entering the line now. Remember, Chrom. We're married, you help me in my trade, and your name is Chuck."

Ophelia giggled. "Heh, Chuck."

"Your name also needs to change, Ophelia. The document lists you as 'Eudes'. Remember it. We're your parents, and you have to move around with us when the West Valmese Trading Company sends us on business trips."

"Eudes? I… I kind of like that. It feels very… choseny."

Chrom frowned, a part of him hoping Ophelia would get an embarrassing name too. "Why do I get a name like Chuck?!"

"Now, now, dear." Pheros said. Her face was completely serious, but Chrom knew Pheros well enough by now to know a dry remark was coming his way. "I know you dislike these business trips, but let's not fight in front of our daughter."

"This is going to be a long wait."

Pheros turned to leave, but she stopped briefly. "One more thing. My name on the document is Fels. They might get suspicious if you call me by the name of a long dead Valmese general. Understand?"

"Of course, _my darling wife_."

* * *

It took over two hours for "Chuck", "Fels", and "Eudes" to make their way to The Saltworks' southern entrance. Chuck was able to occupy himself for a time by staring at the complicated engineering of the city's fortifications, and he occasionally had Fels remind him of what he was to do once he got in or tell him bits of information about their fake identities and marriage, but the wait was mostly filled with nigh unbearable boredom. Chuck barely had enough room to move his elbows with all the people around him, and he moved forward only every few minutes. Chuck and "his daughter" occasionally made small talk, but Fels shushed them whenever they spoke of anything that could connect them to their true identities. The two were only able to talk about inane things, like the weather or The Saltworks itself, and Eudes eventually grew silent from boredom. She even started to telekinetically fiddle with small rocks on the ground without really thinking about it, and Chuck had to nudge her to stop before anyone noticed.

For all that, Chuck didn't breathe a sigh of relief when he finally reached the Grimleal security checkpoint. Multiple arquebus armed soldiers stood guard as the line reached the checkpoint. The only way through was to go through a small booth, big enough to hold only two or three people. A single inspector was inside, separated from the visitors by a glass panel. A halberd armed soldier stood just outside the booth, and people only entered when he gave them permission.

Fels turned and nodded towards "her family" as the group reached the booth. There was only one person in front of them now, a middle aged blonde woman. Chuck recalled that she seemed perfectly normal when they entered the line, but the wait had turned her irritable and sour. She stepped inside the booth, and Chuck and the others stopped as the halberd armed soldier stepped in front of them. "Finally." The woman spat as she took out her traveling documents. "I've been waiting all damn day."

A scrawny, overworked inspector inside the booth ran his hands through his thinning hair as he looked over the papers. "Welcome to The Saltworks, ma'am. What brings you to our glorious city today?"

"Is says all that on the papers!"

"They make me say that, ma'am." The inspector responded in a unenthusiastic tone. He slid the documents closer to himself through a slot in the glass and carefully compared them to several papers and open books he had on his desk. "Alright. Everything seems to be in order… wait. You're coming from Ylisstol?"

"Yes. What's it to you?"

"Do you have your additional medical records?"

"My what?!"

The inspector sighed, as he knew an argument was coming. "There was a polio outbreak in the suburbs of Ylisstol two weeks ago. All visitors from Ylisstol are now required to bring an up to date medical history with them, and it has to come from a certified doctor. No family physicians. No healing magic. None of that."

Chuck turned to Fels. "What's polio?"

"Poliomyelitis is a disease known to cause muscle weakness, deformities, and paralysis. The Grimleal officially discovered it a few years ago, but it's probably been with humanity for thousands of years. It used to be an endemic disease, but now outbreaks occur every summer in major cities. One consequence of the globalization caused by the unification of humanity and the growth of the trading companies is an increased number of disease outbreaks. They seem to discover new ones every year."

"Gods."

The woman glared at the inspector. "I've been traveling for months! I left long before this outbreak happened!"

"Ma'am, two weeks ago is when the outbreak was known. It's possible that infections started before that."

"You think I'm sick?"

"I'm just following regulations."

"This is horse dung! How could I have known about this when this change happened after I left?!"

"I know this must be difficult, ma'am, but I need you to not raise your voice. Now I can have you scheduled for a medical evaluation, but you'll need to stay outside of the city until then."

"I know how this bureaucracy is! That'll take days! This is ridiculous!"

"Ma'am-"

"Just let me through!"

"I can't do that."

"I'm not leaving this booth!"

"Ma'am-"

"I waited in line for two hours. I am not leaving because of something I couldn't possibly have seen coming!"

"Ma'am, if you don't calm down I'll have to refuse service."

"Just let me through, kid!"

Fels looked uneasily at Chuck. "This isn't going to end well. Watch what happens, my beloved husband. This is what will happen to us if you don't get this right."

The woman continued to argue until the inspector finally ran out of patience. With a pull of a lever underneath the inspector's desk, metal grating came down over the entrance to the booth. The woman exploded at this point, yelling and pounding on the glass, but she was interrupted as an armored soldier entered the booth from the other side. The soldier didn't ask the woman to calm down. He didn't ask her to surrender to him. He simply drew a club and bashed the woman in the head, sending the hapless traveler to the ground. He then grabbed her leg and threw her out of the booth. Two soldiers grabbed the woman and hauled her off, her body limp in their hands, and the first soldier looked to the inspector. "Reopen the booth." The inspector nodded and turned a crank on the wall until the grating went back up completely. Chuck looked over as the soldiers took the woman away until they were out of sight. She'd technically gotten what she wanted, as the soldiers were taking her into the city, but her destination was probably nowhere anyone would want to be. He was a little shaken by the situation, but Fels grabbed his arm and tugged him forward.

"Next!" The inspector finally called. Fels turned to the soldier outside.

"The three of us are together."

"Come on through." The soldier waved them forward, and Fels entered the booth and took out her documents. Chuck and Eudes squeezed in together, but there wasn't a lot of room for them. Chuck at least tried to have his back to his grandniece so that his chest wasn't shoved into hers, but even turning around was uncomfortable in the cramped conditions. Fels didn't seem to mind, though she did glare at her husband as he accidentally elbowed her, causing her to stumble into the glass.

"Gah! Damn it, dear!" Fels took a deep breath and presented the documents. The inspector took them and spoke to Fels without looking away from the papers.

"Welcome back to The Saltworks, Fels. It's been a few months since we've seen each other. What brings you to our glorious city today?"

"It's been too long, Inspector Ditkovich. Just here on another business trip. You know how the trading companies are. This time is a little different, as you can see."

"Ah, this is your family then?"

"Yes. This is my husband, Chuck, and my daughter, Eudes."

"Well." Ditkovich looked to Eudes. "You look just like your mother."

"What?!"

Fels glared at her daughter. "Yes. _Just like your mother."_

"Now why haven't you brought your family here before?"

"Well… Chuck here was a stay at home father for our little girl, but times are tough. I got Chuck here an internship, and our daughter is finally picking up the family trade. Isn't that right, Chuck?"

"Uh… sure."

"That's very selfless of you, Fels. Most people use their jobs to get away from their families." Ditkovich turned to Chuck. "Having a real job isn't easy is it?"

"Oh I wouldn't speak directly to Chuck much." Fels leaned in. "He's a little slow."

"Huh?!" Chuck exclaimed. Ditkovich nodded.

"How did you meet exactly?"

"Oh, Chuck here was in a support group for drug addicts. I was his councilor at the time-"

This had not been part of the story Chuck had been told, and his pride got to him. "Pheros!"

Fels froze. "Uh, _honey_? That name isn't appropriate here!"

"What did he just call you?"

"Well… the two of us… we're big fans of the Shepherds. Yeah, that's it. We even took a trip to Shepherd's Folly not that long ago. His nickname for me is Pheros, after the Valmese General the Shepherds ruthlessly slaughtered. I call him… Stahl."

"Stahl?!"

"Well he thinks of himself as Chrom, but that's a little ridiculous don't you think?"

Ditkovich perked up. "You like the Shepherds?! I love them! They make for a great story. So Chrom is your favorite?"

"Uh… you could say that."

"Psh. Boring. I like Lucina better. She kicked ass and took names. Then she travelled back in time and gave those names to the ancestors of the people whose asses she kicked."

"Uh… I don't know how to respond to that. You like the Shepherds? But you're with the Grimleal."

Ditkovich shrugged. "It's just a job. I mean you're with a Grimleal trading company and you like them."

"True."

"I don't know. Things were simpler back then. I mean a group of only a few dozen men and women bringing down entire armies? It's a badass story. Anyone could be a hero. I joined the Grimleal military because I wanted to go on adventures, but now I'm stuck in this booth all day. Well… anyways, let's get back to business. I see you have documents here for you and your husband, Fels… wait. Where are the young lady's documents?"

Fels took a deep breath. This would be the difficult part. "You see, I wasn't given a lot of notice on this trip, and we had to take our daughter along unexpectedly."

"You said she was an employee of the trading company? She should have her own traveling documents."

"She was taken in very recently, and she's still in an internship. She also wasn't sent on this trip. I had to take her because we couldn't get any accommodations for her. My employment allows me to bring along business associates. Surely that can be stretched to include her. I couldn't just leave my daughter behind."

"Fels-"

"I've been coming to this city a long time, Ditkovich. I've always followed procedure." She faked a laugh. "I mean, do you think I'm trying to sneak her in to the Arch Surg or something ridiculous like that?"

"That's not funny to me, Fels. They're always lecturing me to watch for Arch Surg activity. Damned insurrectionists."

"Those damned innies, heh."

The inspector thought about it. "... alright. I can let her through."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Fels straightened herself. "Thank you, Ditkovich-"

"But! But, but, she needs to submit to a security screening."

Eudes shifted around uncomfortably. "What does that entail?"

"You'll face a pat-down."

"W-what was that?"

"We're going to feel you up to see if you're carrying anything illegal." Ditkovich replied bluntly. Eudes moaned, but Fels glared at her.

"Of course she'll submit. We thank you for your understanding, Inspector Ditkovich."

The three passed through the booth and were lead towards an additional security checkpoint. It was there that Chuck was made to register his weapons. The Grimleal seized the Carrot Axe and Thundergrypp, and Chuck was made to fill out forms detailing the weapons. He audibly groaned at having to write down "Carrot Axe", but he got a smile from Eudes when she noticed he'd been using the name she gave to his pistol the entire time. Eudes herself had to register each and every one of her tomes and vulneraries. At the very least the Grimleal didn't make her register the wooden replica of Missiletainn Henry had given her, and she was able to keep it. The three were made to remove their shoes, and Fels additionally had to remove the heavy plating on her outfit. All three of them were then given a brief pat-down, but Eudes was then moved off to the side for a more extensive one.

"Father?" Eudes whimpered as an elderly male employee pulled her to the side. Chuck looked to Fels, but she silently implored him to accept it.

"I… I don't see a way around it, Ophel… err, Eudes."

The man put on a glove and turned to Eudes, speaking in a monotone voice. "Having a nice day so far, young lady?"

"No!"

"Well, that makes two of us. Anyways, my name is Border Control Agent Sallow. I will be performing a security screening on you today. It involves extensive physical contact." Eudes groaned, but Sallow continued. "Now I will be slowly running my right hand alongside various points on your body. I will be touching your 'special areas', which we identify as your breasts, rear, and groin." Sallow turned his hand and pointed to the back of it. "Now I will be using the back of my hand when touching your special areas, and I will be using the front of my hand when touching the rest of you. Any questions?"

"Is this really necessary?"

"I'm sorry, young lady, but your special areas must be touched in the name of national security."

Chuck couldn't stay silent anymore. "Is there… could we at least have a female agent do this?!"

"Is that really necessary, sir? I can check, but I can't guarantee we have one available."

Fels elbowed him. "Come on, Chuck. Grimleal border control is lazy and poorly managed. It could literally take them an hour to get a female agent."

"Then…" Chuck looked into Eudes' eyes, and he nodded to her. "I want a security screening too!"

"Huh?!"

Sallow briefly showed actual emotion. "You want a pat-down, sir?!"

"At least you won't have to do this alone, Eudes."

Eudes managed a small smile. "Thank you… I suppose."

And so father and daughter, or rather great uncle and grandniece, stood side by side as bored elderly male border control agents felt them up. It certainly wasn't what Chuck had in mind when he thought about what he'd have to do to fight the Grimleal. After what felt like an hour, though it was probably only fifteen minutes or so, the two were released. The group collected their shoes, and Fels took the time to put her plating back on. After passing through several more soldiers, the three were finally free to enter The Saltworks itself.

* * *

It dawned on Chrom as he stepped into the street that he'd never been to a major city since the fall of the Shepherds. The largest settlement he'd been to was Nowi Falls, but that was a small town compared to The Saltworks. Buildings stretched for as far as the eye can see, and Chrom also noticed that the city's walls seemed to stretch into the horizon. The city streets were filled with bustle, and people were crammed shoulder to shoulder as they walked. Buildings were packed very close together, such that you couldn't even squeeze between them. Even Ylisstol had never been this busy in Chrom's time.

Beyond that, Chrom couldn't look without seeing a reminder of who built the city. Grimleal banners hung from the inside of the inner wall's towers, and posters could be found all over the place. One depicted a Pacification Unit with her hand outstretched, the text reading "This woman is your friend. Report all suspicious activity to her." Another depicted Gangrel himself, and Chrom's blood boiled at the sight. It read "The Emperor is watching." Another poster depicted a smiling Grimleal soldier, the text reading "Use less so our boys get more. Rationing gives you your fair share." Yet another poster showed a ship breaking in half, the text reading "Somebody leaked information to the enemy. The Arch Surg pieces together bits of careless talk." There were dozens more posters visible to Chrom, and they all said something different. Looking towards the nearest street, Chrom could see no less than three different Pacification Unit squads marching in formation, the people giving them a wide berth as they passed. As soon as one squad disappeared from his view, another came in. Chrom looked back to the walls to see Grimleal soldiers patrolling on top of them, looking down on the city. He couldn't look in any direction without seeing a reminder of what the world had become. As if she knew how he was feeling, Pheros stepped forward. "Welcome to the new world order, Chrom. The Grimleal hopes you enjoy your stay."

"Gods…"

"Come on. Let's get moving."

"We're headed to the safehouse then?"

"Yes, though remember we'll make our way separately. Do you remember where we're going?"

"Throb." Chrom frowned at saying it out loud. "What kind of name is that anyways?"

"It's an… adult entertainment center."

"Huh?"

"An _adult_ entertainment center."

Chrom blushed. "W-what? Why there?!"

"It's worked pretty well for us so far. Grimleal hasn't found it yet. Now let's go."

Pheros insisted that Chrom or Ophelia disperse into the city first, as if she didn't trust them to not go together if she left them alone. With a reassuring smile from Chrom, Ophelia ventured into the city. Pheros waited about fifteen minutes before she decided to leave. With a final reminder of what he was to do, Pheros disappeared into the crowds herself, leaving Chrom alone. Pheros had asked him to wait fifteen minutes, but he grew uncomfortable as the Pacification Unit patrols occasionally glanced over to him. He waited only five minutes before a Pacification Unit lieutenant staring at him for more than a few seconds caused him to power walk away.

Chrom couldn't say he enjoyed being pressed against people as he made his way through the city, but he had to give credit to The Grimleal. The Saltworks was remarkably well planned. Signs made it clear what part of the city he was in and where he was going, and the streets connected all the important parts of the city efficiently. Chrom made his way through the city just as Pheros instructed until he came across a heavily urbanized area in the eastern district of the city filled with small businesses. After wandering past several rows of buildings, all of them largely identical in design, he came across a row of about six businesses with painted red doors. Remembering Pheros' words, he looked at the third building from the left to see a rather rundown looking business patronized largely by women, its name visible on a sign hanging over the door. "Throb." Chrom noticed Gaius and Ophelia hadn't arrived yet, so he took to waiting in the street. In truth, the thought of going anywhere near the place filled Chrom with embarrassment, and he especially didn't want to be there by himself.

Chrom was still awkwardly pacing around in the street when he turned at the sound of armored footsteps in the distance. He expected to see yet another Pacification Unit patrol, but the handful of Grimleal soldiers marching down the street now were more heavily armored than normal. Five men were making their way toward Chrom. Three in the back wore less armor than their comrades, but they were still equipped with metal helmets, cuirasses, and plating on their arms and legs. Arquebuses were strapped to their backs, and each one carried a halberd in their arms. The next Grimleal soldier, marching in front of the first three but behind the lead man, wore very distinctive armor Chrom had never seen before. The man's chest was also covered by a cuirass, but this one depicted an anatomically correct human male chest with modeled muscles, navel, and even nipples. Emblazoned on the pectorals was a Mark of Grima, molded into the armor itself. Golden trimming lined the abdominals and sides of the cuirass, and the bottom flared out with golden segmented plates. The man's shoulders were also covered with segmented metal plating, and the rest of his arms were covered by bracers and gauntlets. Unlike most modern plate armor, the man's upper legs were covered only by a tunic, almost like the skirts Pegasus Knights were known for, but reinforced with leather straps studded with metal plating. The man's shins featured metal plating, and armored sandals covered his feet. This man's chest was not unique in its decoration, as each metal plate on the his body displayed some kind of engraving. Many depicted scenes of battles, but Chrom couldn't make out the details. The man's actual face was covered by a mask, itself depicting a detailed human face in a blank expression, that seemed to come down from a metal helmet featuring cheek guards and an armored crest on the top. The man had a firearm and short sword on his hip, and a large square shield and javelins hung on his back.

The lead Grimleal soldier's appearance was more familiar to Chrom, but that didn't make the sight any less unnerving. Though plate armor had existed since before the Hero King's time, the expense made a full set of it rare even in modern times. Even with the Grimleal's wealth, most soldiers had to make do with a few pieces of armor. The man standing in front of Chrom now though wore one of the largest sets Chrom had ever seen. It would have given even the knights of Ylisse a run for their money. Not a single centimeter of this man's skin could be seen through his armor. The man's chest was a solid piece of metal, reinforced with metal studs for good measure, featuring the Mark of Grima on the bottom. The top of the chest plate was even further reinforced with two sheets of steel, and a metal protrusion flared outwards and up to the man's neck to ward off strikes. The man's shoulders featured large metal pauldrons with swordbreakers, and the rest of his arms were similarly armored. Unlike his companion, heavy plating protected all of the man's legs, but it was hard to see past a purple tunic. The man seemed to be wearing it under the armor, and it flowed out from underneath his chest plating and covered his legs down to his knees. Leather straps, padded with metal, came down over the man's groin from a belt around his waist, and segmented plates came down over the tunic to add additional protection to his hips. The man's head was protected by a close helm, but the visor was unusual. Designed to provide as much protection as possible, the visor had no single opening to allow the man to see. Instead about a dozen small holes were punched into it. In an amazing display of craftsmanship, each hole seemed to be a Mark of Grima. It couldn't have given the man a good view of his surroundings, but he seemed to make his way down the street with little difficulty. The right side of the man's armor, starting from his visor and going down to his chest plate, was painted the same purple color as his tunic. The left side was painted a bright red. Compared to his armor, the man's weapon was much simpler. Besides a carbine slung on the back of his waist, the man wielded only a poleaxe. Wrapping around the grip, making the weapon easier to hold, was the only decoration it featured, and the weapon's condition made it clear that it was used frequently.

Chrom didn't mean to stare at the strangely equipped soldiers, but it was hard not to look as they marched, almost jogged down the street. Somewhat amazed that men so heavily armored could even move so quickly, Chrom also noticed that they didn't slow down as they approached crowds of people. Virtually everyone gave them plenty of room, but one young woman was too busy inspecting the wares of a nearby fruit stand to see them. Rather than take two seconds to walk around, the armored man in front simply walked into her. The woman was almost knocked over, and the Grimleal soldier turned suddenly as if his helmet really did obscure her from his vision. "Aw! What in tarnation!" Rather than apologize, or even continue walking, the man put the shaft of his weapon to the woman's back and forced her to the ground. "Do you not see me WALKING HERE?!"

Chrom didn't consciously want to start a fight with the Grimleal, and he didn't even have a weapon, but everything he was wouldn't allow him to simply ignore something like that. Acting automatically, he stepped forward and shouted at the man. "Hey!"

The man brought his head up. "What the hell? What the gods-damned, mother fornicating hell?! Who said that?!" The man turned to Chrom. "You there, boy?! You say that?!"

Chrom wasn't thrilled at anyone calling him "boy", especially a man almost certainly younger than him. Deciding it was too late to back down, Chrom took a deep breath and stood tall. "You could have seriously hurt her! Surely such an armored man should be more careful when moving. Pacification Units are meant to protect the people aren't they?"

"Did you just call me a Pacifier?!"

The man in the face mask looked up to his companion and spoke a foreign language. "Trebuie sa ne grabim." He implored, as if he knew what was about to happen. The lead soldier responded by thrusting his poleaxe into the man's chest.

"Ține asta. I ain't taking this lying down." The soldier began to approach Chrom. He started slowly backing away, but the man didn't slow down. Chrom finally decided to stand his ground, but the man still wouldn't stop. When he reached Chrom, he simply took to shoving him back repeatedly until he had Chrom against the wall of the Arch Surg safehouse. "Pushing women down hurts them?! Why, I never knew that! Oh teach me more about physics, Mr. Science Man. Hell, let's put your theory to the test!" The man grabbed Chrom and threw him into the wall before seizing his throat in his armored gauntlet. "Oh I liketa put a bullet in that scraggly head of yours, but lucky for you I'm in a good mood, so I'll just teach you a lesson you can put to use in the future. I am not a Pacifier! Know what I am?! Huh?! BOY?! HUH?!" Chrom was completely unable to speak, and he struggled just to breathe. He instinctively began punching and kicking the man, but he couldn't manage to even move him. "I'll tell you what I am. I'm judge, jury, and executioner! I'm a necessary evil, boi. Sent to do the Grimleal's business. Now your tax money might have paid for this here armor, but that don't mean that business involves you! Now get the hell back to whatever sorry arsed hole you crawled out of, or I might could just beat you into next week!" The soldier brought Chrom's head into his own helmet, causing blood to gush from his nose, then threw Chrom to the ground and kicked him almost a meter backwards, leaving him unable to do anything but lie in the street and groan in pain for about thirty seconds. All Chrom could do was look back to the soldier. Apparently savagely assaulting him wasn't enough to ease the man's rage. If anything he was worse now, as he started furiously punching the building beside him. "I ain't get no damned respect no more! Damned badlands peasants! The sun done baked their brains if they think they can treat a Grimleal Enforcer this way! AAARRGH!"

The other man tried pushing his comrade away. "Ți-am spus să continui." He succeeded in moving his friend as the poleaxe armed Enforcer degenerated into mindless yelling and mumbling, and Chrom finally rose to his feet as the five soldiers left. He'd never taken a beating like that in his life without fighting back, but there was nothing he could do to the Grimleal in the middle of a crowded city like this. Chrom slowly brought himself back to his feet, but his mood improved as a familiar voice called to him.

"Blue!" Chrom turned and smiled as Gaius and Ophelia approached, proving that they'd made it through the city safely. Gaius had a worried expression, and he helped Chrom stand up fully. "Do you know who that was?!"

Chrom remembered what the man had said in between attacks. "A Grimleal Enforcer?"

"Yes! They're the people Gangrel sends when he really wants someone dead, and they're not known for being friendly. He could have killed you!"

Ophelia stepped forward. "You have to be more careful than that, Chrom. I've been to large Grimleal cities like this before. You have to keep your head down."

"I'm sorry." Chrom noticed that Gaius had three lollipop sticks in his mouth, and he now had a sack slung across his back. "Did you… did you stop for candy on the way here?!"

Gaius crunched down on one of his lollipops and tossed the stick into the street. Rather than finish the other two, he unwrapped a fourth and began sucking on it. "Mmph. I haven't had candy since the good ol' Able Sierra took us to that damned fort! I was having withdrawals." Chrom glared at him, so he placed the sack down and opened it. Gaius had spare gunpowder and shot in his sack, but it was otherwise as filled with sweets as the sack he carried around thirty years prior was. "Want some?"

"No!"

Ophelia looked at it. "Could… could I have some?"

"Why you certainly may." Ophelia happily took a handful, but Gaius winced. "Woah! Not the whole sack! This has to last me!"

"I just took a handful. You have so much!"

"... fine. Just hurry up." Gaius glanced up to the nearby building. "The third building to the left. I guess this is the place. What kind of name for a business is Throb?!"

Chrom awkwardly ran his hand down the back of his neck. "Did Pheros not tell you what this place was?"

"No. Do you know?"

"It's a… uh… it's an… adult… entertainment place?"

Gaius thought about it. "Nope. That's not enough. Follow up question, are there or are there not half naked people in there?"

"I-I don't feel comfortable talking about this!"

"Oh come on, Blue. Don't be such a teenager about it. You can't be that much of a prude, else Lucina and Brady would never have existed."

"Alright, alright. It's a place where gentlemen who are… in need of female companionship might go to… see women wearing less." Chrom's voice trailed off with embarrassment as he finished the sentence, but Gaius perked up.

"Hell yeah! Candy and babes! Finally we're speaking my language."

Ophelia shared Chrom's discomfort, though hers seemed to come from disgust. "Huh?! Why is the Arch Surg in a skeevy place like that?"

"Who cares? Things are finally looking up for us. Maybe I'll even get myself a private dance, heh."

Ophelia glared at Gaius, who seemed lost in a fantasy of some kind. "I can't believe you! Places like that just encourage men to objectify women. A hero shouldn't squander their choseness with such vices!"

"Psh. Whatever, Captain Save a Harlot. Let's just get inside already."

Chrom groaned. Having Ophelia and Gaius with him did little to ease the embarrassment of going inside, but he didn't see a way around it. He'd be lost in the city if he didn't meet up with Pheros again. "Let's just get this over with." Chrom waited as Gaius and Ophelia entered, but he felt someone staring at him as he tried to enter himself. He looked back to see the woman the Enforcer had attacked smiling.

"Uh… hey. For what it's worth… thank you for sticking up for me."

Chrom smiled back. "You don't have to live in fear of them."

The woman's smile faded. "You haven't been here long have you?"

Chrom watched as she walked away, and he looked over to see Grimleal banners hanging from the city's walls in the distance. Happy to get away from the horrifying sight, Chrom entered the building.

Sure enough, "Throb" referred to a place of adult entertainment, but it didn't exactly appeal to Gaius. Scantily clad young men entertained groups of excitable women, and Chrom turned to see Gaius' disappointment was palpable. "Aw man! It's a place for _chicks_!"

Chrom looked around. "Huh. I guess we did just assume it would be a gentlemen's club."

"I can never get a damn break!" Gaius looked over to see Ophelia staring intently and blushing. Annoyed at the hypocrisy, he lightly slapped her upside the head.

"I-I wasn't staring!" She responded almost reflexively.

An employee approached the group with a cheery look. "Welcome to _Throb_. Were you two looking to find entertainment for the young lady, or… were you here for yourselves?"

"Hell. No." Gaius didn't say anything else, and Chrom nudged him.

"They told you what to say right?"

"Yes… but I don't want to say it now."

"You have to say it."

"It, it sounds weird here. With the context and everything."

"Just say it."

"You say it!"

"Fine." Chrom approached the man. "We're looking for backroom entertainment." Chrom paused. "Okay, yeah. That is a little uncomfortable to say out loud here."

The man's expression instantly became more serious. "Where did you hear that?!"

"Don't ask where we heard it!" Gaius snapped. "Just take us to the Valmese dipwads."

The man looked around nervously. "Alright. Just move casually."

The man lead the three to a hallway hidden away from the rest of the building, past a rather intimidating man standing guard, and finally to a door at the end. The man knocked four times on the heavy metal, and a slit just big enough for someone to look out of opened. "What's the password?"

The first man opened his coat slightly, revealing a small knife. It was more than Gaius, Chrom, and Ophelia had on them at the moment. "You'd better know the password."

Chrom couldn't quite recall what he was supposed to say, and the man staring at him didn't help. "Um… a mole's ass?"

"... close enough." The door slid open, and Chrom, Gaius, and Ophelia walked past the guard and down a winding staircase leading underground. Chrom expected a shelter of some kind, but the Arch Surg actually had a rather elaborate set up hidden underneath the business. The main room was large enough to comfortably hold two dozen people, and multiple doors to side rooms could be seen. Tables were set up around the center of the room, and the safehouse even had its own kitchen towards the back. Sure enough, Farber and Cervantes could be seen playing cards at one of the tables, and Pheros occupied herself with paperwork on another.

"Well, you actually made it." She said without looking up.

"Welcome to our little slice of heaven." Cervantes added. "Come on. Sit down. Have a beer. Make yourselves comfortable… until we're ready to drag your arses somewhere else."

Gaius looked around. "So you guys are right under the Grimmies' noses. Huh. First question, why is your glorious revolution holed up in a strip joint?"

"We have safehouses in businesses all over the city, including but not limited to 'strip joints'." Pheros replied. Cervantes nodded.

"This is our largest one. The manager here lets us use the whole basement."

Gaius gave a smirk. "Perks for being such a loyal customer, Pheros? I'm sure you get lonely working so much."

Pheros rolled her eyes. "I have no desire to waste my time with such things."

Cervantes snickered. "Ha! Good one! Actually, Farber here is the manager's favorite customer. Ain't that right?"

Gaius looked to him. "But… the strippers here are all guys?"

Cervantes had meant to mock his comrade, but Farber simply shrugged as he looked over his cards. "What I do with my free time is little of your concern."

Chrom looked to Pheros. "Does the manager know what you really do here?"

"Oh he does, and he approves of it. Arch Surg's good for business." Chrom turned at the sound of the unfamiliar voice to see two men coming out of a side door. The first man was a tall dark skinned man with a bald head and a thin goatee. He wore a leather jacket and pants, and multiple piercings adorned his nose and ears. The man speaking was fair skinned, with a flat face and a square jaw. He wore clothing unlike anything Chrom had ever seen before. He almost looked out of time. His hat, covering all of his hair, was rigid with a brim that extended outwards. His suit featured a dress shirt and a coat, but it wasn't quite like the fashion nobles had worn in Chrom's time. A strange and seemingly pointless article of clothing came down from around his neck, and it seemed tied in place. His coat also had stripes running down it. Notably, the edges of the man's coat were dark red, and the rest of his clothing was a light pink color. The man blew smoke from a lit cigar as he stepped forward, and his eyes darted to Chrom, Gaius, and Ophelia as a smile grew on his face. "Grimmies want a world where the same people control all the wealth, but I like a little diversity in the market. Keeps prices healthy."

Pheros nodded to the man. "That's the manager there. Roy-Earle. We have a partnership."

Gaius chuckled. "You have to buddy up with the managers of strip clubs?"

"He owns multiple businesses, and we use them to launder funds for the Arch Surg. We also hide our safehouses in them."

Roy-Earle smiled. "You could say I'm something of a revolutionary, but I much prefer to think of myself as a merchant."

Gaius squinted. "And what do you sell?"

"Anything you need."

Chrom looked at him suspiciously. "You're a criminal?"

Roy-Earle took his cigar and waved it around in the air in an exaggerated motion. "You wound me, sir. I only have the interests of the people in mind. Sometimes the people want a service, so you give it to them with establishments like this one. Sometimes the people want product, so you, err, source it for them. See I can read how the world is going. Feudalism is dead. The world's not about bloodlines and lineage anymore. It's about capital. It's like… capital… ism. Hmm. Is that even a word? Anyways, there's nothing wrong with a little free enterprise. The people get what they want, and men with the vision to make it happen make money. The only ones left upset are the lawmakers in the Grimmie politburo."

Gaius turned to Chrom. "You say that with such contempt. The world has changed, _Exalt_. You can't look down on criminals anymore. Technically, you're a criminal for resisting the Grimleal. Crime is just another way to get by." Gaius turned to Roy-Earle. "Of course I'm not sure about this clown, with his 200 gold cigar and his 2,000 gold suit. I mean what man wears a bright pink suit?"

Roy-Earle took the jabs in stride. "Heh, it's actually more of a salmon, but of course a hard working man like you probably doesn't have time to follow the latest fashion trends. Not easy being a stable boy, was it?"

"What?!"

"Ain't that what it says on your papers?"

"How do you know that?"

"Now who do you think got those for you?"

Ophelia had been following the conversation, and she frowned in confusion. "What's a salmon?"

"Oh just a fish that used to swim in the streams before the world went to piss."

Gaius still felt the need to insult the man. "But what the hell kind of name is Throb?"

"You see, all these taverns and brothels have repetitive names. They're all named adjective animal. They all have names like The Red Dragon, or The Spiky Wyvern. In the future, all the hippenist happenist places will have single names. 'Throb' is avant-garde."

"Ridiculous."

Roy-Earle looked annoyed for an instant, but he hid it behind a cheesy grin. "Well why don't you let me worry about names. I wouldn't want you to burn out that pretty head of yours thinking." He turned to his associate, who stood silently watching Chrom, Gaius, and Ophelia. "Come on, Malc. We got work to do."

Malc seemed to silently snarl to himself, and he walked towards Chrom and Gaius. The two gave him a wide area, but Ophelia had been behind Chrom, and she didn't see him. Malc brushed past her, and he turned to look at Ophelia in anger. "Watch it, wench."

Chrom's uneasiness around the man was replaced with fury as he spoke to Ophelia. "Don't talk to her that way!" Malc turned to Chrom, pulled out an arquebus from his coat, and thrusted it into his stomach. Chrom tensed up, but he didn't let himself show fear. He glanced down to the arquebus to see that it notably had most of its barrel sawn off, and it was now very short. "How… how did you get that in the city?"

"Don't fucking ask where the FUCKING gun came from!" Malc snapped, his voice unhinged. Everyone in the room stood at edge, but no one could do anything without weapons of their own. Roy-Earle eventually managed another exaggerated smile, and he slowly put his hand on Malc's gun and lowered it.

"Wow! Wow. _Wow_. Let's all just simmer down now. Heh, come on, Malc. Put the gun down. What'd I tell you about that temper of yours?"

Malc lowered his weapon, but he continued to glare at Chrom. He calmed down somewhat, and his voice was more smooth, but he was still angry. "Listen to me, boy. The Arch Surg ain't gonna ride your cock because you're from some inbred family. Archangel cares about money, and you ain't makin' no money for nobody."

Chrom stared Malc down as he slowly put away his gun and walked away. Roy-Earle gave a nervous laugh. "Heh, well you'll have to forgive my associate. I don't keep him around for his manners. Let me make it up to you. How about a free round of drinks at the bar upstairs?"

Gaius groaned. "Oh boy. Getting drunk with a bunch of half naked men. Sounds like fun." He said dryly. Roy-Earle shrugged.

"Sounds like a good time to me. Maybe I'll just have to find some other way to apologize. It'd be nice to see your smiling faces again. My card." Roy-Earle gave Chrom a small rigid piece of paper. It simply had his name on it alongside a symbol. The emblem looked vaguely like the claw marks of a wild animal, and it was blood red. Chrom raised his eyebrow at Roy-Earle, but he just smiled. "If you ever want something other people don't want you to have, just give me a holler."

"Uh… how would I find you?"

"We find you." With a tip of his hat, Roy-Earle started to walk out of the safehouse. "Malc! What did I say about talking to potential customers that way?!"

"What a strange man."

Gaius looked over the card himself. "Uh oh. I recognize that symbol, Blue. Red Syndicate."

Ophelia perked up. "Now that sounds like a name of fate and destiny! Perhaps this Red Syndicate is fitting to grace the pages of the Chosen Heroine's story."

"Knock it off, Blondie. The Syndicate isn't a joke."

Chrom glanced back to the card. "What is that?"

"Organized crime for the new world order." Pheros explained as she stepped up. "They're supposedly the largest network of criminal enterprises in the world. The Arch Surg has a working partnership with them. Without them we couldn't manage to acquire the supplies we need to fight a war. All the money in the world isn't worth anything if your enemy owns all the businesses. All the resources. The Grimleal doesn't exactly sell to us. We need black market channels."

"What kind of crime are we talking about?"

Gaius smiled. "Settle down there, Exalt. They're not like the brigands and pirates you fought thirty years ago. They make their money quietly. Hell, I've only heard whispers of them myself. Apparently they're lead by a man named Nero, though he doesn't sound real to me."

"Why are they so powerful?"

"You see, Blue, there will always be crime. You can't stop it. You can only… mold it. In the old Halidom of Ylisse you mostly just had petty thieves, like yours truly. The worst you'd see were bandits. With the Grimleal's attempt to control the whole world, organized crime has had to toughen. The result is the largest criminal group this world has ever seen. The more you try to tighten your grasp, the more things slip through your fingers."

Ophelia crossed her arms. "They sound dangerous to me."

"Heh, well you're not really on the right side of the law yourself, Blondie. "You're a criminal just for fighting back against the Grimleal. The people who make the laws are corrupt. They care about themselves. It's always been that way. Always will."

Chrom noticed a strange seriousness to Gaius, but he decided it was harmless. "So how did that man sneak a weapon into the city. Why couldn't we?"

"I have no idea. Those men were Red Syndicate, not Arch Surg. They don't tell us more than they have to. They have a knack for hiding from the Grimleal authorities, but you three do not. It's probably not a coincidence that Grimleal Inquisitors were at Shepherd's Folly just a day after we were there, nor is it a coincidence that Wolcroft and her soldiers appeared in the small town we stayed at. They're hunting for us as we speak, so we need to get moving as soon as possible. Stay here in our safehouse for the rest of the day, and we'll move tomorrow. You'll finally meet Archangel, Chrom, and she can help you make sense of everything the world has become."

Gaius gave Chrom a worried look. "You really do want to go with them, don't you? To see their crazy leader? To walk into that gaping maw?"

"Gaius… I've been told she knows me. I want to know who she is for myself. Besides, The Arch Surg will just send men like Keith to hunt us down if we don't go ourselves. They won't treat us like Pheros has been treating us."

"Do you really think Pheros would allow you to leave? You think she isn't following orders?"

Pheros scowled. "I'm standing right here. I won't force you to come with us. You can leave at any time, but where will you go? Back to your small town? You'd let Cordelia die for nothing?"

Gaius shot his finger in her face. "Stay out of his head!"

"I'm simply stating objective facts."

Gaius looked like he wanted to argue, but he suppressed his anger. "I want to talk to you in private, Chrom. Away from _them_. For now though, I'm getting the hell out of here."

Pheros watched as he departed. "And where are you going?"

"To find a place like this but, you know, with women."

Ophelia frowned. "You're a pig!"

"What I am is lonely, but I can fix that."

Pheros shook her head. "Assuming you don't have such atavistic desires to satisfy, you can stay here for now, Chrom. We have a bedroom you can sleep in."

Chrom stared at Pheros as she returned to her paperwork until she finally looked up. "Pheros… we can leave if we want. Can't we?"

Pheros briefly seemed to actually be hurt by the comment, but her stoic look quickly returned. "I know we didn't get off on a good start, but surely you realize I have respect for you. I'm not forcing you to do anything." She gave a sly smile. "Of course, where would you go if you left?"

Ophelia gave Chrom a worried look. "Didn't Gaius say something about walking into the gaping maw? What if we're in it already?"

"We'll be fine, Ophelia. Let's just… let's just get some rest."


	48. The Sins of the Father

"Why are we going with them, Chrom?"

Chrom looked down to his cup of coffee as he thought of a way to help Ophelia understand his decisions. The two had made small talk while the other Arch Surg officers were present, but Ophelia began asking Chrom more serious questions about his actions after Farber and Pheros left. Cervantes was still present, but he occupied himself with paperwork and didn't seem to care about his guests. Something about Cervantes made him seem less threatening than the others. Perhaps it was the way he ran his finger almost cartoonishly through his now chest length beard, or perhaps it was because said beard still had particulate matter from his lunch in it. Still, Chrom didn't allow himself to be too calm around Cervantes. He was over seventy years old and still capable of lugging around a set of plate armor after all.

Bringing his eyes back to Ophelia, Chrom tried to give a soft tone. "I know you have no reason to trust them, Ophelia, but I just think this is the best course going forwards."

"Why?!"

"Pheros and the others are treating us with respect. As equals."

"They tortured you!" Ophelia aggressively ran her fingers down Chrom's right arm, as if she thought he might have forgotten. "Pheros cut a scar through your emblazoning of divine right!"

"I know that, but things have changed. We all have to work together against the Grimleal. Pheros said that herself."

"So you want to fight with their army?!"

"No… maybe. I don't know. What I want is to meet their leader, and these four will take us there personally."

Ophelia's gaze fell to Chrom's chest as she sighed. "Chrom… Tiki always said you had a trusting nature, but maybe that's not a strength. Those four are not good people just because they helped us against the Deadlords. Trusting Gangrel and Aversa didn't work."

"I'm not being naive here, Ophelia. The Arch Surg is trying to capture me. Archangel demands that I be taken to her. If we leave Pheros and the others, they'll send madmen like Keith. This is the safest way."

Ophelia shook her head. "Chrom, that's extortion! They're just capturing you in another way. You think you can't fight them?"

"I don't want to fight anyone! I don't want to live on the run from these people! Ophelia, the last time we went anywhere on our own volition was when we tried to find Caeldori. Since then we've been driven around by the Grimleal or the Arch Surg. We don't have a home, and we've lost so many of our allies by living like this. Tiki. Cordelia. Donnel. Henry." Chrom's voice choked up. "Maybe Soleil and Caeldori. We… we have to try and change things. Maybe being with this army can be the start of something." Chrom knew his next point was largely personal, and he took a sip of his coffee as he thought about how to phrase it. Coffee was the only thing the safehouse kitchen had that wasn't alcoholic, and Chrom didn't trust himself around that. The first several sips of the foreign drink had been nothing short of disgusting, but Chrom found he could improve the flavor by adding quite a bit of cream. "And… I've been told Archangel knows me. I need to see her, Ophelia. I need to see for myself, and I need to know."

"You… think she might be a Shepherd?"

"I… that can't be right. She's supposed to be the leader of the Archanean Liberation Front, but I don't believe any of the Shepherds could have built all this. Could be responsible for all this violence. For all this brutality."

Ophelia thought about it. "Well I never knew the Shepherds but… did you think Henry would have willingly created a curse to mentally torture soldiers into submission? Did you think Gaius would ever be an assassin? Did you think Donnel would ever threaten your life?"

"... no."

"Things change. Thirty years is a long time, and those years haven't been good to humanity. You almost broke, Chrom. Maybe some of them did."

Chrom had been denying the possibility, but Ophelia's words about the Shepherds made sense to him, and it only made him more determined. "I'm sorry, Ophelia, but that only makes me want to see Archangel more. Maybe a Shepherd is responsible for all of the Arch Surg's atrocities, but maybe they haven't broken yet. Maybe they can be saved, and maybe this army can truly stand for humanity." Ophelia's eyes lit up as Chrom spoke of leadership, but her excitement faded as he hung his head. "What am I saying? I can't save anyone."

"Chrom, stop!"

Chrom didn't share Ophelia's belief that his guilt was undeserved, but he steeled himself regardless. "Let's talk about something else."

Ophelia gave Cervantes a side glance. "You've met these four before right?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about them. Who are these foul cretins?"

Chrom looked over to the nearest Arch Surg officer in question. "That man, Cervantes, was one of Emperor Walhart's highest ranking generals. I'm not surprised he survived our last encounter, actually. He survived fighting us before."

"What's with his beard?"

"He thinks it makes him invincible. It was much shorter thirty years ago, and even then it was ridiculous." Cervantes gave a thumbs up to the two without looking up, showing that he was at least partially listening to them.

"What about the other two men? What were their names?"

"Farber and Algol. Farber was another one of Walhart's generals. The Shepherds encountered him when we first came to Valm. He was trying to kill Princess Say'ri, but we stopped him. Apparently he survived. He struck me as a very serious man, but I don't know much about him. Algol was a Grimleal cultist under Validar. He ambushed us when we were leaving Castle Plegia, and he escaped before we could kill him. We encountered him later in the Outrealms. He'd created an army of Risen, and he was killing people to then turn them into Risen. We stopped him there, but I guess he survived. Actually… that might have been a different Algol. You never know with the Outrealms."

"He was part of the original Grimleal?"

"I think he mentioned the new Grimleal kicking him out. Maybe he's trying to get back at them?"

"Then there's Pheros. Let me guess. One of Walhart's?"

"Yes. We fought at Fort Steiger. I remember her. She said that she once went on a pilgrimage to hear Emmeryn speak. I remember realizing how dedicated Walhart's generals truly were when I fought her. This woman believed so strongly in his cause that she became a soldier. She used to be a priestess of Naga, and yet she spoke of killing anyone who stood in Walhart's path. Of course… I killed everyone in my path."

Ophelia squinted at Chrom. "What's with you and her?"

"Huh?"

"Even in this conversation you keep saying 'Pheros and the others'. You talk about her like you really know her. She's getting inside your head. Making you think she's your friend! She's just following orders, Chrom, and she doesn't have your interests in mind."

Chrom really thought about Ophelia's words. He truly had developed quite a bit of trust in Pheros, and maybe that wasn't for the best. At the same time he remembered opening up to her and talking about his hallucinations. Pheros didn't have to ask, and she didn't have to listen, but she truly did. Chrom was going to tell Ophelia this, but he wasn't sure how to tell her about his visions. Would that ruin her idolization of him? Was that for the better? "I'm… I am keeping an eye on them, Ophelia. I won't let my guard down."

"What if it's too late?"

Chrom tried to give a smile. "Then it's a good thing I have the fated heroine by my side to protect me."

"It's Chosen Heroine… and that's not funny." Ophelia's voice became soft. "I'm just worried."

"We'll be fine."

"Stop saying that! You know what I think? I think you're so plagued by guilt that your mind has become clouded, and now you're in a cycle. You're so used to hating yourself, and when people like Cordelia and I try to show that we love you… you just can't accept it. You want to see Archangel because you know she's probably someone you've wronged, and you want to face yet more guilt because… because you don't know anything else now. You feel like you're not a hero. Like you don't deserve the love the Shepherds always gave you. You want to face more guilt because it's easier for you to accept, and Pheros is filling your head with words that smell of honey but sting of venom. She wants you to feel closer to her, so that it doesn't seem like she's forcing you to go. At the end of the day, she's trying to take you to Archangel same as Keith, but you don't care. You want to see her, because you want to face guilt again. You're afraid of overcoming your guilt, because you're afraid of letting people care about you again. Look up to you again. You're afraid you'll stop hating yourself, because you don't think you deserve that. Maybe you want to fight the Grimleal in some way, but this belief that the Arch Surg can be the start of something is just… is nothing but a justification. A rationalization of your actions. Maybe you think that you'll become who you were again if you break this cycle of self hating, but there's nothing wrong with that. You were a hero! You can be one again, and we don't need them!" Chrom didn't have any response to that, and an awkward silence filled the room for about five minutes. Ophelia seemed increasingly saddened by how her words had affected Chrom, and she eventually couldn't take it anymore. "Chrom, I-I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Don't apologize to me, Ophelia. I deserve your criticisms."

"But I'm not trying to criticize you. I just want you to be safe. I have to look out for my family after all."

The two exchanged warm smiles. Moments like these gave Chrom some semblance of serenity, as they reminded him he really did have something with Ophelia. "Well then I've no reason to fear with you here to protect me."

Ophelia nodded. "We don't have to be with these barbaric churls to do good. This Grimleal city radiates with darkness… and also a lot of salt. Oh, is that why they call it that? Anyways, we of exalted blood must gather our tools of forebears past in order to stave off this vile taint. Behold then, an augury of warriors long gone, with us still in spirit."

"... huh?"

Ophelia paused. "Oh. Was I uh, having one of my moments?"

"Your what?"

"Well Soleil and Caeldori always complained when I allowed my choseness to radiate into my speech. Do you mind?"

Chrom smiled. "No, Ophelia. Say whatever you want to."

Ophelia perked up. "Really, I mean, I mean, of course another exalted lord such as yourself would have the widsom to see the… uh… wisdom in my words. Now then. Behold!" Ophelia took out one of her gems. "The Jetblood Dracocrystal! With this I can read the constellations themselves, and they will show me the location of my mount, bestowed to me by the ally of wyverns!"

"Who?"

"Cherche. I'm trying to find Minerva, and that used to be Cherche's wyvern right?"

"R-right."

"I admit I don't know much about her, but Tiki told us who she was when she gave Soleil and I Minerva." Ophelia concentrated, and she actually started to glow slightly. She put the Jetblood Dracocrystal on the ground and made a circle around her with other gems. "Now I shall rend the information from the heavens themselves through my exalted power! OH! MY ACHING BLOOD!"

Chrom still smiled, though he was a little weirded out. "Um… alright?"

"Relinquish your secrets to me, constellations! DO IT NOW!" Ophelia's eyes glowed gold for a second, and she took a deep breath.

"D-did the stars tell you anything?"

"They said… ask again later. Huh." Ophelia looked at two of her gems. "Maybe I should swap these around."

"What difference would that make?"

"What difference would that make?" Ophelia giggled. "I envy your innocence."

Cervantes stuck his head up. "Cherche? That sounds familiar." He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the woman. "Cherche, Cherche, oh yeah! She served Duke Virion. Walhart put a kill order on her head, he did. Drove her sorry arse from Valm."

Ophelia scowled. "We weren't talking to you."

"Well I can hear you! You know I can just take you to see your wyvern. We have him, her, it stabled here."

"We don't need your help." Ophelia furrowed her brow as she repeated her ritual. Once again her eyes glowed gold. Chrom turned to her.

"Did you find Minerva?"

"... maybe we should have him show us where she is."

Chrom remembered that the Arch Surg had promised to take care of Minerva, and he then recalled what else they had promised. "And Paul. Where is he?!"

"The farmboy? He's in a safehouse."

"This is the safehouse!"

"This is _a_ safehouse. Don't worry about him. He's fine."

"I don't believe you!"

Cervantes sighed. "Fine. We told him you were coming, and he requested that he not see you." Chrom's heart sank as he realized what Cervantes was saying. "He thinks you're responsible for killing his family."

"I… gods."

"Sorry, my boy. I can still take you to your wyvern?"

Chrom turned to Ophelia, and she nodded. "Alright. Let's just… let's just go."

* * *

Cervantes lead Ophelia and Chrom through the city until they neared wyvern stables for rent by the edge of the eastern district's commercial area. Cervantes pointed to the stables themselves as the group approached, but Chrom's eye was drawn to something else. "Blue!" Gaius affectionately slapped Chrom on the shoulder as he ran up. "I'm glad I caught you." Gaius' smile faded as he glanced over to Cervantes. "Oh. You brought one of them with you."

"We were going to see Ophelia's wyvern in the stables."

"Oh. Is this a bad time?"

Chrom remembered what Gaius had asked of him. "You want to talk to me in private?"

"Yeah. Ophelia can come if she wants to, but I don't want _him_ to be there."

"I'm standing right here!" Cervantes groaned. Gaius ignored him as he turned to Ophelia.

"Then again… you might want to find something to do for awhile, Blondie. You're not going to like where we're going."

"Why not?"

"Remember how I said I'd find a place like where the Arch Surg are holed up, but with women? It honestly wasn't hard."

Ophelia scowled at him. "Wha?! I thought you were better than that!"

Gaius just laughed. "Anyways, you have something to do? I mean, you _could_ come if you really wanted to."

"No!" Ophelia looked back to the stables. "I did want to see Minerva."

Chrom nodded to Cervantes. "Are you sure you want to be alone with him?"

"I'll be fine."

Chrom smiled to his grandniece, but he shot Cervantes a glare. "If anything happens to her!"

"What do you think I'm going to do? Feed her to them?!"

Chrom watched as the two walked away, and he was a little nervous as he turned back to Gaius. "This place you found… it's at least classy right?"

"Uh… sure. Yeah. Let's go with that."

Gaius either had a different idea of what constituted "classy" than Chrom, or he'd simply been lying. Either way, Chrom felt like he wanted to melt from embarrassment as Gaius lead him around "The Horny Toad". Chrom wasn't sure what Gaius enjoyed more, the entertainment, or Chrom's own embarrassment. He seemed to revel in it as he repeatedly caught the attention of strippers just to send them Chrom's way, and the Exalt's polite refusals became more pitchy and stuttered with every offer of a private show he turned down. Chrom had never indulged in anything like this while growing up in Ylisstol, and he hadn't exactly been pursuing his "needs" in the past thirty years of isolation. Chrom finally had to lose Gaius in the crowd and break his self imposed moratorium on alcohol to calm himself down. He tried his best to sink out of view at a small table towards the back of the establishment, but Gaius eventually found him anyways. "Well hey there, Blue. You almost look you're trying to hide from ol' Gaius."

"Did you bring me here just to embarrass me?"

"I brought you here to have fun!"

"You're harassing me!"

Gaius chuckled. "You got a funny idea of harassing there. I'm just trying to see if any of these working girls can loosen you up a bit, but you have to actually say yes to one. I'll pay for it." Gaius sat down. "But no matter how close they get, don't actually touch them. This isn't that kind of place."

"This isn't my idea of fun!"

Gaius blew air through his lips as he patted his own knees. "Yeesh. You know there's a time where it's awkward being around so many half naked babes with daddy issues, but then you get older and start to think it's a great way to relax. You're a little old to not be there, Blue. Course you've got daddy issues yourself. Remember what you told me about those dreams you were having?"

"That's a little low!"

"Or maybe it's because you grew up in that stuffy palace. Tell me, what was the spiciest thing you ever did with Maribelle? *gasp* Hold hands?!"

"Shut up!"

"Hell, how was little miss tiara ever born if you're this squirmy around women? Was she adopted?"

"Lucina could wield the Falchion. How could she have been adopted?!"

"Maybe she was descended from the First Exalt's forgotten bastard?"

Chrom took a sip from his glass of kumis. He still hated the taste, but at the same time he knew he wouldn't lose control if he was drinking something so disgusting as kumis. "Did you bring me here just to poke fun?"

"You can take jabs at me if you want? Come on! What do you got?"

"Gaius, I'm going to leave if this is how you're going to act."

"Just let that stick fall out of your rear! No wonder you and Cordelia hit it off once you actually started talking."

Chrom glared at Gaius. "Because she was stuck up?! Is that what you're saying?!"

"Yeah, that's uh… that's the joke." Gaius said in the tone people took when they were forced to explain their quips.

"I thought you wanted to talk!"

Gaius became genuinely saddened. "Fine. Look, Blue, I do want to talk, but I wanted you have fun first."

"Why?"

"Because this isn't going to be a fun talk. I… ugh. Maybe I need a drink." Gaius stopped a passing waiter and ordered a drink Chrom didn't recognize.

"You drink?"

"Sweet stuff."

"Alcohol isn't sweet."

"You won't believe the kind of stuff the Grimmie trading companies provide, Blue. They got all kinds of alcohol now! Hell it wouldn't surprise me if in ten years they had chocolate flavored booze or chicken flavored booze. Of course, not everyone agrees with what the Grimleal has done. Least of all the Arch Surg. In their war against the Grimleal they've committed countless acts of violence and brutality… and you want to go with them. Meet their insane leader."

"That's what this is about then?"

"Of course that's what this is about. We're friends, Chrom! I care about your safety!" Gaius leaned back into the seat. "I can't believe that, you know."

"What?"

"That we're friends. You were the prince, and I was just a thief. Now you're the best friend I have. I'm so glad we met again at Cordelia's place, even if it was violent. For thirty years I survived on my own, and now I don't want to think about being alone again. "Blue… we are friends right?"

Chrom smiled, though he was cautious of where Gaius was going. "Of course. I feel the same way, Gaius. With everyone else gone, I don't know what I'd do without Ophelia." Chrom looked directly into his eyes. "And without you."

"Well… that's the thing." Gaius was silent for awhile, and he seemed to look around for his drink. He only spoke again when he realized it wasn't coming soon. "Chrom… I've survived these thirty years by being careful. You can't surrender yourself to these people! You don't know that they won't kill you. That they won't torture you! Use your damn head! Why, gods why do you want to go with them?!"

"I-I-" Chrom took a deep breath. "I need to see this Archangel. I need to know who she is for myself. I need, I don't know, closure."

Gaius just shook his head. "I know you, Chrom. I know you're stubborn, and I know when you won't change your mind. There's nothing I can say that will convince you otherwise is there?" Chrom didn't want to talk about his motivations anymore. He knew Gaius and Ophelia wouldn't understand, but he felt like he had to know who Archangel was now. If the slightest possibility that she was a Shepherd existed, then he couldn't ignore it. His mind wouldn't let him. Gaius sighed and took his drink when it finally appeared. He tipped the waiter several gold coins and leaned back with the glass. "Then… then…"

"Can I try whatever that is?"

"Sure. Help yourself." Chrom took a sip from Gaius' foreign drink. Though the familiar sting of alcohol was present, he hadn't been lying about the flavor. Perhaps intentionally, given the mischievous smile on his face, it was then that Gaius told Chrom what he was getting to. "If you won't change your mind about going with the Arch Surg… then I'm not going with you, and this will be the last we'll see of each other."

Chrom was shocked, and he almost spit out the drink. Gaius gave one last chuckle at the sight before his smile permanently faded. "You're leaving?!"

"Am I being unfair to you, Chrom?"

Chrom forced himself to finish his own drink. "No. I have no right to ask you to stay."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to risk my life like that. I daresay I know the Arch Surg better than you. Hell, I've even been hired to take out some of their officers before. They're dangerous, and I've been hearing stories about them for all eleven years that they've existed. I know better than to ever trust them, but you? Well you're just so damned stubborn. Then again, in a way it's admirable."

"Gaius… I'm sorry."

"But you'll still go? Won't you?"

"I… I'm sorry. I-I don't want to leave you."

"And you don't have to! Are you afraid they'll find you?! I can teach you how to hide! I can find work. I can keep Blondie safe. We can take the fight to the Grimleal, and we don't need them!"

"Gaius… I need closure."

"You think this Archangel will be someone you know, and you can't ignore it. You know what, Chrom? You're like these strippers. You don't like change. You just can't let the past go." Gaius took a long, defeated sigh. It was clear he knew Chrom wouldn't be convinced to stay, but he was filled with sorrow all the same. "There's something about you, Chrom. You inspire people, and you make them want to follow you to hell and back. I… I forgive you, Chrom. For everything that happened. I stopped hating you long ago, and now I just want you to know that I don't hold anything against you. I'm so glad we could see each other again."

"Gaius…"

"I'd stay with you if I could… but I have to think about my safety too. I know better than to hope you'll stay… so I guess this is goodbye. When you leave this city, I won't be coming with you."

"Then this is it." Chrom looked around. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from his mind at this point. "I see what this was now. I'm sorry, Gaius. I should have enjoyed myself."

"Well it's not too late. We still have time don't we? Hell, I'm sorry. If you want we can find something you'll actually like."

"I'm the one leaving you, Gaius. Let's do something you want to do."

Gaius looked back to the dancers. "You know what that means don't you?"

"Well… I… er-"

"Aw I'll get you to enjoy yourself. Just order something you'll actually drink when the waiter comes back around. We'll just… we won't think of anything else right now. We'll just have a good time."

Chrom slowly returned a warm smile. "Alright."

Several hard drinks later, Chrom finally did allow himself to enjoy Gaius' idea of fun, and the two really did forget the somber tone of the earlier conversation. It was almost sunset when the two finally left, or rather, stumbled out of the building. They'd both had more to drink they had intended, and now Chrom found himself having to hold Gaius as they walked. "Hey come on, man. I can, I can walk."

"No. No." Chrom answered, his own words slurred. "You're uh, you're drunk. You need my help."

"I can walk!"

"Nah, you uh… uh… you need help." Chrom proceeded to walk into the wall of the neighboring business. "Ah! Who put this wall here?! I'm the Exalt, damn it! I demand an answer!"

Gaius tried to stick his finger over his mouth, though he was a few centimeters off. "Hey shh. That's a secret! Remember?"

Chrom gave an exaggerated snicker. "R-right. It's a secret! The Grimleal t-thinks my name is Chuck! Ha!"

Drunk Gaius apparently thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "CHUCK! Hey, hey, hey where's the Falchion, Chuck? Do you want to do the Awakening ritual, Chuck?!"

"I'm sorry, good sir. You're looking for Chrom. The uh, the Exalted… guy. I'm just a simple man named Chuck!" Both men bursted out laughing and stumbled into each other. Chrom's laughing inexplicably became crying, and he wrapped his arms around Gaius. "I'm gonna *urp*... ooh, sorry. I'm gonna miss you, man!"

"Me too, Blue."

"I love you!"

"I love you too, man. I hope Archangel doesn't kill you!"

"And I hope you have a long, happy life, in spite of your horrible, horrible diet."

Chrom probably intended that as a compliment, but Gaius' drunken mind almost immediately shifted into frustration. "Hey, shut up!" Gaius shoved Chrom back, and the Exalt stumbled around in an exaggerated manner until he fell into a Grimleal poster. Gaius became curious as he looked at it. "Hey that poster has reading words. What does it say, Chuck?!"

Chrom turned and fumbled his hand around until he found it. The poster depicted Emperor Gangrel shaking hands with a corporate official from the West Valmese Trading Company. The text read "Corporations are our friends. Invest in company stock today, and secure your future tomorrow." Chrom was too inebriated to read the words, and he didn't recognize the second man, but the depiction of Gangrel filled him with rage. "It's the Emperor!"

"You mean gangly… gangrene… gangbang… what the hell was his name?"

"Gangrel! I'm gonna… I'm gonna spit on it!"

"You wouldn't!" Chrom proceeded to do just that. Gaius stared at him as if he'd actually killed a Grimleal soldier. "You absolute madman!"

"And I'd *urp*... oh… and I'd do it again!"

"... do what again?"

"I don't remember."

"There you two are!" Gaius and Chrom both turned to see Ophelia approaching. Though her own face carried an expression of worry, both men smiled at the sight. "I didn't think you'd spend three hours in that disgusting place!"

Gaius stumbled forward. "Aw come on, happier, blonder Tharja. We weren't there that long."

"First of all, what did you just call me? Second, yes you were!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Phelia." Chrom replied. "Did you have fun with… uh… Catria?"

"Minerva. The wyvern's name is Minerva."

"Same thing."

Ophelia stepped forward and took a whiff. She immediately recoiled. "Your auras are tainted with muck!"

"Wha?"

"As Soleil would say, you're all wasted!"

Gaius gave a giggle. "You know, Blondie, your outfit wouldn't be out of place with the strippers."

Chrom frowned. "Hey! That's my granddaughter you're talking about. Wait… no, not my granddaughter. She's my uh… my uh… okay say Lissa's kid had a kid. What would their relation be to me?"

Gaius just squinted. "Buddy, I am way too hammered for math problems right now."

Ophelia moaned. "I can't talk to you two like this! Hold still." Ophelia pulled out a diamond and motioned for Chrom and Gaius to look at it. She then channeled magical energy into the gem until it glowed brightly. "Hear me oh foul curse of inebriation! I am Ophelia Dusk! Chosen Heroine! The stars themselves smile down on my arcane power! I now cleanse the Exalt of Ylisse and… Gaius… so that their auras no longer be tainted!" Ophelia's diamond glowed until the light became blinding. Nothing else happened, but Chrom and Gaius started to move more easily as the light faded. "There. Better?"

"Huh?" Gaius blinked a few times. "Aw man. I feel normal again."

Chrom held his head. "What was that?"

"Gem magic." Ophelia looked proud of herself for a second, but she quickly crossed her arms and scowled. "I can't believe you two, and I'm especially disappointed in you, great uncle! What would Cordelia say?" Chrom froze as a twinge of sorrow hit him. It was particularly prominent as he remembered he still had Cordelia's blindfold in his pocket. Ophelia suddenly recognized how much her words had hurt him, and her frustration faded into a more apologetic tone. "Oh! I'm sorry. It's just that I was thinking about Soleil."

"Soleil?"

"Believe it or not, she's a lot more mature than she used to be. She would always head out to a town by Cordelia's homestead and goof off. Sometimes she'd come back a little tipsy. Cordelia would say that she wasn't taking her training seriously, and Soleil would shout that she needed to loosen up. Those weren't happy moments at the time, but now it's kind of nice to remember back when we were all together. Sometimes I'd catch Soleil when she tried to sneak away, and I'd warn her about what Cordelia would say." Ophelia brought her eyes, either a soft grey or a very light blue depending on the exact lighting conditions, to Chrom's and sighed. "I'm sorry for bringing her up. It's just that I'm used to lecturing Soleil for drinking, and I just mentioned Cordelia reflexively."

Chrom suppressed his feelings with a deep breath and straightened himself. "It's fine. I miss her too, but that's in the past."

"Is it for you? Does guilt and loss not continue to plague your spirit, great uncle?"

Chrom didn't know what to say for a few seconds, but another voice interrupted the conversation before he could think of anything. Ophelia didn't recognize said voice, but Chrom and Gaius both turned in surprise as they heard it. "Well, it could be worse. At least Chrom and Cordelia got to know each other in this timeline. They usually don't say two words to each other."

"You again?!" Gaius said in disbelief.

"Old Hubba?!" Chrom looked to him as he hobbled forward. "You escaped from the Arch Surg fort!"

A smile appeared on his ancient face as Old Hubba stopped and rested on his cane. "That's right. Of course, I've survived far worse in my time. I'm just happy to see that you all made it out. That was quite the scuffle."

Ophelia looked confused. "Wait, who are you?"

To Chrom's dismay, Old Hubba ogled Ophelia before answering. "Well _hello_ there, fair maiden. Chrom told me about you, but it's nice to finally see you in person."

"Ugh. Ophelia, this is Old Hubba. The Shepherds encountered him in the Outrealms thirty years ago, and we met him again when the Arch Surg had us imprisoned at their fort. He was with the Arch Surg because he had nowhere else to go."

"Outrealms?" Ophelia lit up. "I've read about the Outrealms in my quest for arcane knowledge. They're like other worlds, right? Accessible only through divine magic! What happened to the Outrealms, oh wise one?"

Even with his gaze fixated solidly on Ophelia's chest, Old Hubba's expression dappened. "Alas, the Grimleal sent entire armies through the Outrealm Gate. Normally there's an Anna… I mean… normally Anna is there to guard it, but I'm not sure she could have done anything to an entire Grimleal invasion. They've since locked the Outrealm Gate down. It's as impenetrable as Mount Prism or the Thabes Labyrinth now. I have no idea what they want with the Outrealms, but it can't be good."

Ophelia's smile faded. "Is nothing sacred to them?"

"Absolutely not. The Fell Dragon would control all of spacetime if it could." Old Hubba's gaze finally left Ophelia and fell to Chrom. "But no matter how powerful these dragons are, heroes always rise to stop them."

A small smile appeared on Old Hubba's face, but Chrom didn't return it. "What are you doing here?"

"Mustafa sent me. When you last saw the fort, it was being torn apart as Keith and his loyal soldiers fought against those afflicted with Henry's terrible curse. Those soldiers lashed out at anything and everything, but they were still sane. They could still be reasoned with. Mustafa managed to appeal to them. He sympathized with them and told them to direct their anger towards those who had truly wronged them."

"Keith?"

"Yes. Keith, Archangel, who ordered the use of the curse, and… Henry. The dark mage who developed it."

Ophelia frowned. "They hate my grandfather?"

"He did mentally torture them into compliance. I can't say their anger is unjustified. Don't feel bad, Ophelia. Every good dark mage has people that curse their name. Henry and Tharja are still dirty words in some rural parts of the continent, even all these years later. Someday, if you become strong enough, people will curse your name too."

"Uh… I don't know that's a compliment."

Old Hubba shrugged and looked back to Chrom. "But Henry is no longer around, is he, Chrom?"

"No. How do you know that?"

"I'm a fortune teller. I had forseen it. I'm sorry."

Chrom clenched his fist. "What do you have to be sorry about? You've probably seen a thousand Henrys."

"That doesn't mean people don't matter to me." There was a moment of awkward silence, and Old Hubba cleared his throat. "Anyways, Mustafa actually took control of the rioting soldiers, and he's turned on the Arch Surg. He's put Keith and the few loyalists that remain under seige in the fort's citadel. The siege hadn't been broken yet when I left. He sent me here to find you, and to tell you that he's created a safe haven for you if you need it."

"Mustafa actually calmed them down?"

Old Hubba nodded. "He's quite a leader, and he wants to do right. He won't tolerate the Arch Surg's atrocities anymore, and he's still sorry for siding with Gangrel all those years ago. He wants to make it up to you."

"So it's safe there for us?"

Old Hubba nodded. "And Pheros, Cervantes, Farber, and Algol don't know that. They left before the rioting stopped."

Gaius nodded along, but then paused. "Wait, how did you find us here?"

"As I said, I had forseen it. I knew our destinies would intertwine at this fine establishment." Old Hubba motioned towards the strip club. "I actually meant to talk to you two in there, but I got… distracted."

"You dirty old man."

"Don't stick your chin up at me. You two are a little old to be part of the nightlife here, are you not?"

Gaius looked to Chrom hopefully. "Blue, this changes things! We can have those four Able Sierra fops take us to the fort, and they won't know they won't be in control when they get there!"

"But I do want to see Archangel."

"Blue! You can't just surrender yourself to them completely!"

"I'm not! They're treating us with respect!"

"And all I'm saying is that we can make sure it stays that way!"

Chrom thought about it as he turned back to Old Hubba. "Say we took Pheros, Cervantes, Farber, and Algol back to the fort. What would Mustafa do?"

"He would take them prisoner. If the siege is still going on, he might try to use them as leverage to get the Justicar to surrender. Otherwise he'd imprison them."

"Would he… kill them?"

"I don't think he'd kill them in cold blood, but they wouldn't be able to take you to Belfire, the Arch Surg's capital. That's for sure. You really do want to see Archangel, don't you? I can see her in your near future. It's… clouded. Violent. Filled with sorrow."

Gaius' tone was almost desperate as he pleaded with Chrom one last time to change his mind. "Chrom, you said it yourself. You don't want the Arch Surg to be constantly hunting us when we don't have anywhere to go. Now we do have somewhere to go!"

"But I want answers, Gaius!"

Gaius turned to Old Hubba, who frowned as he saw how much frustration was in Gaius' eyes. "Fine. You! You know who she is, don't you? Don't you?! You seem to know everything else!"

Old Hubba looked down, and Chrom realized he did know. "Well… I…"

"WHO IS SHE?!" Gaius roared.

"Gaius! Don't snap at him!"

"You need to know who she is so badly, so why shouldn't he tell us? Then you won't feel the need to surrender yourself to these terrorists just to know!"

Old Hubba sighed. "Yes. She is not some random woman. Her path has been part of yours, Chrom. She… she was a noble woman. Obsessed with heroism and righteousness. She wanted to help people. So badly. But… this timeline is a dark one. Pain and rage has hurt her, and her desire for righteousness has been twisted into something horrible. Keith is her adopted son after all. He got his personality from somewhere. In most timelines she is but a dove trailing in the Shepherd's story. Now… she's a raptor."

Gaius wasn't satisfied, and he walked up and grabbed Old Hubba by the collar. "I don't want a cryptic clue!"

"Gaius!" Ophelia and Chrom both shouted. Old Hubba didn't show fear, but his voice was weaker.

"Uh, Gaius? Maybe you should have one of your honey cakes, or a lollipop? That always seems to calm Gaiuses down."

"Can't you say one sentence that doesn't sound completely insane?!"

"Do not dismiss what I say just because I see creation differently than you do. Besides, it is not my place to simply give you the answers. You wouldn't believe me if I told you who she was. You just wouldn't. I know why you're angry. You really care for Chrom, and you fear that the Arch Surg will hurt him. You hope that Chrom might abandon his desire to see her if he knows who she is, but Chrom wants more than that! He wants to speak with her! Know why she created this army! Why this woman became such a violent warlord, and beyond that, to know why she continued to fight the Grimleal for all these years while he gave up." Old Hubba turned to Chrom. "Right?"

Chrom nodded as he realized this was all true. "I'm sorry, Gaius. Even if I did know who she was, I'd still want to see her."

Gaius slowly let Old Hubba go as he stepped back. "I'm… I'm sorry. You're right. I just… I just want Chrom to be safe."

Old Hubba smiled, showing that he wasn't angry at all. "You know, this timeline isn't worse in every way. You two have a very strong friendship here." He turned to Ophelia. "And while you are always related to Chrom, you don't always get to meet him. I'm sorry you can't see your father, Ophelia, but at least you and Chrom have the chance to build this bond here."

Ophelia looked lost in wonder with almost everything Old Hubba said, and she finally spoke up. "You speak of other timelines, and of different Archangels."

"Well technically she only calls herself that here."

"So there are different realities? Different worlds?"

Old Hubba thought, as if he were trying to figure out how to answer the question. "You know, most heroes never even learn this much about the nature of reality. Maybe I shouldn't tell you too much. Let me put it this way. There are constants in reality. A is always A. No matter what timeline you're in, there is always A. In every timeline there is a Grima. A Medeus. A Naga. People are constant too. There are always Chroms, and Gaiuses, and Ophelias… assuming that humanity wasn't wiped out before they had the chance to be born. Now don't think of these versions of you as separate individuals. They are you, but they walk different paths. They made different choices. You may wonder if free will exists when there are so many different versions of your story, but free will is why there are different realities. People making different choices creates these timelines. There is one Chrom, but he has made different choices. Does… does that make sense?" Chrom, Gaius, and Ophelia gave him blank stares, and Old Hubba continued. "The story of the Fire Emblem is set in stone, but it is told in different ways. Marriages, battles, outcomes, these things change. The conflict is always the same. The Exalted Prince meets the Fell Vessel in a field. Meanwhile, the Fell Dragon chases the Future Witness through time. From this conflict, an infinite number of possibilities are born. This timeline… is wrong. Tainted with darkness and evil, human and otherwise. Yet, you are still Chrom. You are still a hero, and there is still hope. I didn't just come here because Mustafa asked me to, you know. I want to give you something, Chrom. To show you that there is hope, no matter how bad things get."

"What?"

"I see much violence in your future, Chrom, and much pain. I don't want you to feel that there is no hope." Old Hubba paused. "You know, I really like Lucina."

"Choose your next words very carefully, old man."

"Hey! I'm being respectful here. She certainly has an interesting story. Lucina's story ends in different ways. Sometimes she marries and quietly settles down. Sometimes she becomes Exalt, and reigns as a feudal monarch. Sometimes she disappears into history, never to be heard from again. Sometimes… well sometimes she dies. Sometimes she becomes as a knight errant, wandering around looking for people to help. The life of every Lucina is tortured and filled with violence. To speak of Lucina is to already speak of a woman more noble and brave than the majority of all the people that ever existed, and yet I once had the pleasure of meeting a Lucina that went above and beyond even that call. I saw her in the Outrealms, and she was like no Lucina I'd ever seen."

"What?!"

"A brave princess. She had the long blue hair and the Mark of Naga on her eye as all Lucinas do, but she was also clad in gold and blue armor, and she wielded not the Falchion, but a lance. She gave that lance to me, and she told me to give it to a hero when the world needed them the most. Chrom… this world very badly needs a hero. I think that's you."

Chrom had no idea what to think, and he refused to accept he was hearing to avoid the surge of emotions coming back to him. "I… I don't believe any of this!"

"Then maybe I should prove it to you. Uh… everyone close their eyes. Don't look at me." Chrom closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, he found that a gold and blue lance had inexplicably appeared in Old Hubba's hand. The lance had a regal appearance, and Chrom couldn't help but be reminded of the Falchion itself. The blade, gold on the edges with blue trimming in the center, was reminiscent of the Falchion, though four metal protrusions came out of the blade's base. The center of the blade was actually hollowed out, and a blue gem adorned the center of the base. Strange writing could be seen on the blade itself. The lance itself was about 1.6 meters long. If Lucina really did wield it, it would have been about her height. Old Hubba smiled as the three stared at it in wonder. "It's called Geirskögul. I know not where it's from, but Lucina certainly had quite the relationship with time. I'm sure there are Lucinas who have seen things even I am not familiar with." Old Hubba slowly moved towards Chrom and held it out. "Take it. You need a weapon befitting of a hero."

Chrom stared blankly at the strange lance, but he did take it in his hand. He almost immediately noticed how well balanced it was. Aside from the obvious differences between a sword and a lance, he couldn't help but think that it felt like the Falchion. Like a weapon of divine power. It certainly wasn't a feeling the Carrot Axe gave him. "How… is this possible?"

"I don't know where it's from, but it certainly exists."

"No… not the weapon."

"Hmm?"

"Old Hubba… for this "brave princess" Lucina… was the fight against Grima over?" Old Hubba sighed as he realized what Chrom was getting at. "Was Grima still threatening the world?"

"You want to know if Grima was defeated in her timeline. You want to know if there are timelines… where the Shepherds won. Perhaps… you shouldn't know these things."

"Old man-"

"I just wanted to give you the weapon. To show you that all is not lost."

"OLD MAN!"

The fortune teller was silent for some time. "I think deep down you know the answer. When Medeus, Loptyr, and Duma threatened humanity, heroes rose to stop them. Grima… is no different."

"Grima could be defeated." Chrom took several steps back, and the Geirskögul shook as his hands violently shivered. Old Hubba stepped forward.

"Wait! But things could be worse. There are timelines where Grima wiped out humanity completely. This timeline can still be saved. There are timelines where heroes failed. Timelines where Loptyr plunged the world into madness. Timelines where Duma brought endless war to the world. Timelines where humanity lives as slaves under Medeus and the Dolhrian Empire. Chrom, heroes may always rise to face these dragons, but humans possess free will. Free will means the chance for errors. A hero's victory is not guaranteed."

"How is that supposed to make him feel better?!" Gaius snapped. Old Hubba continued.

"Chrom, do not feel that you alone have failed. There are Chroms that have died. Chroms that fell to madness and raged bloody crusades. Chroms that became Deadlords! You have not truly failed. You still live! There is still a chance, and this timeline can be saved! Gangrel and Aversa created this Grimleal because they came to believe what Validar believed. That Grima could not be stopped. The timelines where the Shepherds won prove that this isn't true, and the timelines where humanity was wiped out show that all is not lost here! Take a lesson from your own daughter! Lucina's timeline was far worse than this one, but she didn't give up! Because she never stopped fighting against Grima, the Shepherds were able to save the world in other timelines. That can be true here too. If you just keep fighting, things can be saved!"

"Tell me, did any other Chrom rend off his own daughter's arms?" Chrom responded in a bitter tone.

"Well… I-"

"You don't get it!" Chrom looked around in exasperation, and he began to take short, rapid breaths. "I always knew that I failed everyone I loved, but now you tell me Grima could be stopped! That there are Chroms who grew old with their families?! That there are versions of the Shepherds that lived happily?! You think that's supposed to inspire me?!"

"It proves that Grima is not all powerful."

"It proves that I am responsible for this!" Chrom motioned to the city itself. "FOR ALL OF THIS! I did this! We failed because of me, and it didn't have to be that way! How can you call me a hero?!"

"Chrom!"

"If this Lucina really did exist, then she would never want this weapon to be given to such a broken, worthless man!" With an almost feral roar, Chrom took the Geirskögul and slammed the blade into the ground, driving it so far into the street that all but the largest men would have to struggle to free it. Gaius and Ophelia tried to call for him to calm down, but Chrom could barely hear them. He could feel his blood boil with stress and rage, and he furiously ran his hands through his hair. Unable to process the emotions going through his head, Chrom stumbled off into the city, leaving Gaius and Ophelia behind.

"No." Ophelia buried her face in her hands. "I thought he was better."

Gaius turned to Old Hubba in fury. "Why did you tell him all that?!"

"I thought… the Shepherds could only prevail because of Lucina's actions in other timelines. Because of her and the other children. Because they were willing to leave everything they had ever known. They worked with the Shepherds to set the timeline on a better path. All of that was only possible because Lucina didn't give up, no matter how bad things got. I thought… I thought I could inspire him. It could be the same way here."

"You don't understand how little he thinks of himself. He's not a hero in his own eyes."

Cervantes suddenly ran up, giddy with excitement. "Ophelia! You won't believe it! I got Minerva to eat the raw meat right out of my hand!" He looked around as everyone glared. "Hey, why are you guys so glum?"

* * *

Chrom stumbled aimlessly through the streets of The Saltworks, uncaring of where he ended up. He couldn't deal with the stress he was facing now, and everything he saw only made it worse. The Saltworks would never even have existed without the Grimleal. In the timelines where the Shepherds prevailed, this land was likely simply farmland. Now an edifice to the Grimleal's control stood here, and it was all because of Chrom. The Exalt's mind flashed back to what Pheros had told him of chaos theory. Though the more complicated mathematics eluded him, he vividly recalled the point she had made. Even the smallest changes to the initial conditions could cause severe changes in the later state of a system. A butterfly flaps its wings in Chon'sin, a hurricane strikes Plegia. Similarly, given what Old Hubba had told him about heroes making different decisions, Chrom made the horrible realization that his timeline and any timeline where the Shepherds prevailed were the same until the fall of the Shepherds. From there, all the horrible differences between his timeline and the others came to be. Everything about this timeline, from the Grimleal's brutal rule, to Grima's Blight, to the creation of the Arch Surg, _everything_ , was his fault. Even the very building he was resting on now as he ambled through the city was indirectly of his creation. As he said himself, Chrom always knew that he had failed, but now he realized it didn't have to be this way. Reality wasn't deterministic. Grima didn't have to win. It was all his fault. Just as Ophelia had said, those horrible self loathing thoughts were the only ones Chrom's guilt plagued mind would accept right now.

Chrom didn't think he could feel any worse right now, but he had no idea what was waiting for him. By sheer, horrible chance, Chrom eventually wandered into a very thick crowd at the side of one of the city's larger streets. As he looked up to see why so many people were gathered, he realized he'd found some kind of Grimleal military parade.

Heavily armed soldiers marched in formation down the street. Each one was a testament to how much the world had changed. These soldiers carried not swords, lances, and axes, but arquebuses, and each arquebus had a serrated bayonet plugged into the barrel. Each soldier was completely uniform. They all wore the same armor. They all had the same weapons. They all moved in the same way. It was the exact opposite of the individuality of the Shepherds. Behind them were horses, but they weren't cavalry. These horses were simply beasts of burden, and they pulled yet more horrifying weapons that had never existed in Chrom's youth. They pulled heavy cannons and mortars. They pulled rocket firing platforms. They pulled two carriages. One was armed at the back with a strange gun that featured wheels, every wheel having multiple small cannon barrels sticking out of it, and a crank connected to the device. Chrom realized with horror that it was a kind of repeating cannon. Turning the crank likely moved the wheel, and each cannon could then be fired as it rotated to be facing the front of the weapon. The other carriage had a massive storage tank at the back with a nozzle connected to a hose. Chrom couldn't fathom what this weapon was for. Though these machines terrified Chrom, reminding him of how powerful the Grimleal was and how much he didn't understand about the world anymore, the crowd actually seemed to cheer at the spectacle. They were lost in a patriotic fervor. The militarism of the Grimleal didn't scare them. They loved it. They were proud of it.

The crowd went wild as the light suddenly faded, and Chrom turned to see the subject of the city's fascination. A massive siege tower of sorts, so tall that it was literally blocking the setting sun, lumbered down the street, pushed forward by two dozen soldiers. The massive tower was lined with banners and ornate decorations, and cannons also lined the sides. The crowd was ecstatic at the sight. It was a symbol of pride for them. All of this militarism was. Chrom couldn't believe it. As much as Pheros had tried to tell him about how people respected the Shepherds, it was abundantly clear now that many people had no problems with the Grimleal's autocracy. Chrom looked around to see that many people in the crowd were young, and many people had even brought their children. This display of the Grimleal's power was exciting to them. It was all a symbol of how bad things were to Chrom, but they _reveled_ in it. As broken as the Exalt thought he was, this realization crippled him. The world well and truly had moved on.

Chrom was snapped from his trance as he heard singing, of all things. He looked down the street as the siege tower rolled by to see a kind of performance making its way after the soldiers. Showgirls wearing elegant but not particularly modest dresses performed a moving dance number as the crowd cheered. Their dresses were all purple, and the Mark of Grima could always be found over their right breasts. A line of marching drummers followed after them, and behind them was a man who seemed to be at the center of the crowd's attention. Standing on top of a slow moving carriage was an actor portraying Captain Grimleal, the state sponsored character Ophelia had showed Chrom earlier. He wore a skin tight purple suit and carried an angular metal shield on his right arm. Both were emblazoned with the Mark of Grima. The man smiled and waved towards the crowd, and in particular towards the masses of children that fought their way to the front. "It's Captain Grimleal! It's Captain Grimleal!" They would cheer with innocent glee, and the man always responded with a wave and a smile. After a few seconds, as if waiting for a cue, he held his shield up and began to speak.

"Remember to invest in war and corporate securities bonds, citizens of The Saltworks! A few gold coins today can secure your financial future tomorrow! Give our brave boys and girls in the military and joint stock companies what they need to bring peace to the world, and to kick the Arch Surg back to their holes!"

The man went back to waving as the show girls began to sing. "Who'll give the Arch Surg a sack and is smart as a fox?!" Half of them sang. The other half quickly followed with a shorter verse. ("Sure as the Fell Dragon soars!")

"Who makes the Arch Surg afraid to step out of their box?!" ("He knows what we're fighting for!")

"Who's strong and brave here to fight for the Grimleal way?!"

"Who vows to fight like a man for what's right, night and day?!" The children in particular cheered as all the show girls sang together.

"Who'll hang a noose on the foes of the Grimleal?!"

"Carry the flag shore to shore for the Grimleal?!"

"From Port Ferox to the Carrion Islaaands!"

"From Castle Valm to the Border Saaands!"

"The DRAAA-CONIC man with a PLAAAN!"

The crowd continued to cheer as the anthropomorphic icon of state propaganda and the cheesy show dedicated to him passed by, and Chrom turned to see even more soldiers marching forward as the military parade continued. Unable to take it anymore, he ran off yet again.

Chrom now made his way through the city in an almost panicked manner. It had been over an hour since the parade, and the sun had since set on Ferox, but Chrom couldn't calm down. "I don't get it!" He roared to himself. "The Grimleal used to be a cult! They were evil! Everything was so simple. Heroes were heroes! Villains were villains! It was all so simple! Now the Grimleal is _everything_ , and no one cares! These people were born after Grima took over! They don't know any better! They don't care! No one cares! What is a hero?! NO ONE CARES! I don't how to fix this! The world is dying, and people are beaten in the streets, but it's OKAY to these people because they have alcohol! Shows! Corporations, or whatever they're called! **_NO ONE CARES! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM ANYMORE! I DON'T HAVE A PLACE IN THIS WORLD!"_** Chrom turned to see a woman and her young daughter staring at him. "What do you want?! Huh? You staring at the crazy man?! Is that it?! Go ahead then! Stare at the crazy man! LOOK AT HIM!" The woman hurried her daughter away, and Chrom hung his head until he heard another voice behind him.

"Father? Who is this strange man?"

Chrom turned to see yet another consequence of his mental pain. Once more a haunting vision of Lucina faced him. This Lucina was older than the one that Chrom knew thirty years ago. She looked to be about thirty years old, just like E-13, and she had a very young infant in her arms. Somehow Chrom immediately realized what he was looking at. This was an alternate version of the younger Lucina, one that had lived a normal and peaceful life, and the child was presumably her son. His own grandchild. As if to confirm this theory, a middle aged Maribelle stepped forward and placed her hands on Lucina's shoulders. "Chrom, make him leave." She said in a worried tone.

"What the hell?!"

"Don't worry, girls." Chrom turned to see _himself_ staring back at him. This Chrom was middle aged too, but he looked much better than his incredulous counterpart. His face was wrinkled, but he still had a stern and heroic aura. The majority of his hair was still blue, and he had a thin, neatly trimmed beard, unlike Chrom's scraggly gunmetal gray one. His armor was far more elaborate than what Chrom had worn as a young man. It was stark white with gold trimming, and there were also blue decorations on it. He wore a white and gold cape, and the Falchion was sheathed by his side. This alternate Chrom stepped in front of his wife, daughter, and grandson and forcibly grabbed Chrom. "I'll take care of this."

"What are you-"

The alternate Chrom forced his other self away and into a back alley behind a row of businesses. Chrom then proceeded to take a severe beating from his more regal counterpart. He knew at this point that there was nothing real about what he was dealing with, but he couldn't halt the inexorable hallucination. His mind just wouldn't free him. The other Chrom continued to beat him until he was sure Chrom couldn't get back up, and he then straightened his posture. "Stay away from my family!"

"W-what?!" Chrom muttered.

The alternate Chrom pointed towards Lucina and Maribelle, who were turned the other direction. "That's my family, not yours. That life's not for you. Not anymore. Not after what you did." Chrom slowly brought his head up to see the other Chrom and his family slowly fade away.

"Aww. I'm sorry your Shepherd pals aren't here anymore." As the alternate Chrom disappeared completely, Chrom turned to see Dartsmoth. The Inquisitor gave a brutish smile as he ran his finger suggestively along Chrom's chest. "But don't worry, mate. You'll always have us."

"Gah!" Chrom tried to swipe at him, but the Wielklavian immigrant avoided it by standing up and moving back. Chrom then turned to see Courtney approaching.

"That's right, you dumb son of a bitch! Your with us now, and we gonna do your sorry ass _dirty_!" Courtney savagely kicked Chrom in the head, causing him to roll over. He then looked up to Altman clutching his glaive.

"We should thank you, Chrom. Our new world order wouldn't be possible without you."

Chrom struggled to his feet to finally see the late Dr. Kryczek. "The peace and prosperity we have brought to humanity is your doing. Thanks to you our path is clear, and our moment of triumph is at hand. Your pathetic feudal society where people ruled by divine right is gone, replaced with our efficient and progressive mercantile, corporatist, meritocratic autocracy. We will bring stability, justice, law, advancement, and unification to humanity, and it's all thanks to you. Unfortunately I predict you will fail to adapt to our new world."

Dartsmoth chuckled. "Do you know what a remora is, Chrom? They're those little buggers you always see trailing after sharks. You and Robin were like the sharks, and the other Shepherds were your remoras. Following you around."

"The Isoptera provide a better analogy." Altman responded. "The lords of the Shepherds, you, Robin, and even Lucina, were like termite queens. The other Shepherds were your workers. Your drones. You needed their strength to defeat your enemies and maintain your power, and you depended on them. Yet, you were not equals to them. The Shepherds did not share power. You were always in charge, and everyone had to do what you said, and the Shepherds were happy to follow you. They were happy to contribute to your success. To be part of your cause. To be part of your story. They were like drones slaving away for the queen. They were happy to do it."

Kryczek nodded. "Feudalism is a lot like the eusociality we see in insects such as termites, ants, and bees. There are defined roles, and labor is divided unequally. The lower classes work for the good of the whole, and individually they are considered expendable. Leadership is determined by birth. In a feudal society the common man slaves away to support a landed aristocracy, and in return the lords protect them. Give them land to work. Give them purpose. In truth, there is no need for an elite caste. For every noble hero, I'm certain there were a hundred peasants of equal potential who wasted their lives on a farm, or in a workshop, or in a mine. The common man suffers under the inequality of feudalism. We are mammals. Primates. Not termites! Not ants! Not bees! We need not the rule of 'heroes' like you. The common man has everything required for the maintenance of society. I've seen your psychological profile, Chrom. You loved your family. Your friends. I know you've suffered, but mankind is better off in our new world."

"Look at us four." Altman added. "Courtney and I were born peasants. Kryczek was an unimportant professor looked down on for his common blood. Dartsmoth was a second class citizen in a hierarchical society. In the 'good' timelines, we would be nothing. Here, we are changing the world. Men and women like us are in charge now. We earned our positions. I'm sorry you've suffered so much, Chrom. I'm sorry Maribelle never got to be Queen. I'm sorry Lucina never became Exalt. I'm sorry your grandchildren were never born. In return, _everyone_ _else_ has had the chance to be better. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. You're not some protagonist in a fairy tale. You're not the only one who matters. At the end of the day, the common man carries more weight than the lord. The people may respect the Shepherds, but they don't really want to go back to the way things were."

Courtney shoved Chrom and then ruthlessly stepped on his head until he screamed. "Big hero. You're so used to everything revolving around you. Everyone follows you! Everyone cares about you! It's your story, and everyone else is just a character in it! Things are different now! You're not on your throne anymore, boy. Now you're in the gutter with us, and we play rough!"

Chrom slowly rose to his feet when Courtney finally stopped to see that the four had disappeared. A poster was on the wall of the business in front of him, and it hadn't been there before. A picture of every Shepherd was there, and each one had a blood red mark through it. The only exceptions were Chrom and Gaius. Cordelia, Henry, Donnel, Nowi, and Severa, who survived the Fall of the Shepherds but had since died or gone missing, had question marks over them. The poster read "FEUDALIST DOGS". Another poster depicted Chrom, and the poster read "Have you seen this man?" Chrom ran his hands through his hair and again ran off, desperate to avoid any more hallucinations. He ran through the street so frantically that he collided with the wall of a business, causing his nose to bleed. Chrom held his nose with his hand as blood poured from it, and he looked up to see a sign. "The Cuddly Tunneller" Chrom remembered Roy-Earle's words.

"Adjective animal. This must be a tavern. Oh gods. I need a drink."


	49. The Déclassé

"This can't be him! It just can't be!"

Pheros stepped forward and looked down. "I'm sorry, Ophelia, but this is clearly your great uncle. Chrom, what did you do?"

Chrom slowly brought his head up to see Pheros, Ophelia, and Cervantes looking down on him, subtle looks of horror and disgust in their faces. It was now very late at night, and the sun had set hours ago. Chrom was curled up against the back of a building. He was barefooted, and his pants had been torn up to the thigh. His work shirt, already ragged from his fight with the Deadlord Mus, was barely clinging to him now, leaving much of his chest exposed. Perhaps most worryingly, Chrom was no longer bothering to cover up his birthmark. The brand of the Exalt was now visible to everyone, and his right shoulder was now covered in bloody scratches. He was also wearing Cordelia's blindfold over his eyes. Last but certainly not least, Chrom reeked of alcohol. It was a disheartening sight to Ophelia and Pheros, and even Cervantes gave a worried look. Chrom only gave a sad glance for a few seconds before hanging his head and groaning.

"Chrom!" Pheros snapped, both anger and worry in her voice. "What is this?! What happened to your clothes?!"

"Termite queens don't wear clothes." He responded meekly.

"What?!"

Ophelia knelt down. She looked on the verge of crying, and her voice choked as she spoke to Chrom. "Did you… did you do that to your own arm?"

Chrom nodded to his birthmark. "I don't deserve this." He suddenly sat up and started to claw at it. "I DON'T WANT IT ON ME ANYMORE!"

"Chrom!" Ophelia exclaimed in desperation as she grabbed her great uncle's arms. Ophelia wasn't strong enough to actually hold Chrom, but he did calm down slightly at her touch. "Stop it! Please!" Ophelia looked him up and down, and she only grew more horrified. "You still had Cordelia's blindfold? Why are you wearing it?!"

Chrom gave a pulsed and stuttered exhale as he struggled to speak through his own sorrow. "When I look at myself, I see a man responsible for everything the world has become. I see a man who failed everyone that loved him. When Cordelia saw me, she saw a hero. Even after all this time. I… I don't know. I guess I wanted to see myself the way she did… and I would have to be blind to do that."

Ophelia couldn't hold back her emotions anymore, and she sniffed as a tear fell down her cheek. "Chrom… that's one of the saddest things I've ever heard." Ophelia gently took off the blindfold, revealing Chrom's own red and irritated eyes. "I thought we were past this. I thought you were getting better!"

"You need to stop expecting things from me, Ophelia. Tiki was wrong about me. I'm only going to keep failing you."

Pheros shook her head. "Chrom, get up! You're lucky it's so late. If any Pacification Squads were patrolling now, you'd be arrested for public drunkenness! If they realized who you were, we'd never see you again!"

"Just let me drown." Chrom muttered as he pulled out a flask he'd apparently purchased in his drinking binge and looked it over. The front had a cartoonish depiction of a Tunneller. The text read "The Cuddly Tunneller. Located off of 13th Street and Imperial Way." The back had a depiction of a salt miner swinging a pickaxe. The text read "The City of The Saltworks. Founded 2626 Archanean Calendar."

"You bought a flask?!" Pheros cried. "What's even in there?"

"I forget." Chrom took a quick swig. "Oh yeah. Whiskey."

Cervantes stroked his beard as he watched Chrom take a much deeper drink. "How the mighty have fallen."

"Don't mock him!" Ophelia snapped.

"I wasn't."

"Chrom, please. Stop drinking!" Pheros pleaded. "Ophelia and Gaius told us that something had upset you. Whatever it was, just please come with us. Don't make this any worse!"

"I just keep failing people don't I?" Chrom responded solemnly as he prepared to take another swig. Ophelia couldn't bear the sight.

"Chrom! Stop!"

"I'm sorry, Ophelia." He said without pausing.

Ophelia eyes darted around as she desperately thought of a way to snap him out of it. "You, *sniffle* you said you'd train me to use the Falchion! Did you mean that?!"

For once what Ophelia had said got to Chrom, and he stopped right before bringing the flask to his lips. "You're… you're right. I did say that." Chrom sealed the flask and steeled himself. "And I did mean it." He tried to stand, but he tripped on a glass bottle of whiskey by his feet and fell flat on his face. He didn't seem to want to try again, as he lied in that position and moaned for several seconds. Ophelia shook her head and pulled out a diamond.

"Just hold still! Don't move."

Ophelia repeated the spell she had used on Chrom and Gaius earlier, and once again a blinding light radiated outwards from the diamond. Chrom tried to slowly rise to his feet as the light faded, but he still wasn't entirely back to normal, and he fell into Ophelia. Pheros tried to help Ophelia catch him, but Chrom was too heavy for the women to support, and they only managed to set him back on the ground. "Damn it, Chrom!" Pheros spat. "Get up!"

Ophelia wasn't as harsh, and she gave a warm smile for her great uncle as he looked back up. "You put away your flask for me?"

"I… I did. I'm sorry, Ophelia. I just can't be the hero you want me to be. I did this to the world, and it didn't have to be that way. Everyone suffers for me knowing them. How could I be a hero? But… you have potential, grandniece. Helping you realize it is the least I can do for Owain. For Tiki. For Lissa. For Henry. I… will train you. You deserve that from me."

Ophelia smiled wider. "Aww. You're like my Jagen."

"Excuse me?"

"You know? From the legends of the Hero King? I'm Marth, the young hero of destiny, and you're Jagen, the experienced warrior who trains me and guides me."

Chrom frowned, but he wasn't really offended. He actually gave a kind of playful tone. "I am not Jagen!"

"Yes you are. You're my Jagen."

"Am not!"

"I guess you could also be like Gunter, from the fairy tales of Hoshido and Nohr? Or maybe I'm like my grandmother, and you can be like Frederick?"

"I don't know about that."

"Well anyways." Ophelia stuck out her arm. "Be my mentor?"

Chrom took Ophelia's arm and forced himself up. As soon as she was sure he wouldn't fall over again, Ophelia stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Chrom would be lying if he said he wasn't moved. He tried to stay stoic, but his mouth quivered. "W-what are you doing?"

Ophelia hugged him for a few more seconds before answering. "I'm sorry. You just seemed like you really needed a hug. You hate yourself so much, but… but I love you. I don't care what you say."

"... Ophelia."

"And maybe Tiki didn't understand how broken you were, but you know what? She was right about you, because you are a good man. Chrom, surely you see this is all Gangrel and Aversa's fault? Not yours."

Pheros nodded. "Where is that rage you felt when Gangrel crippled Emmeryn. Even in Valm I remember hearing about that, and I remember being disgusted that anyone would threaten her. I know Walhart wanted to conquer Ylisse, and I know we had to destroy the feudal system, but I still couldn't believe that Gangrel could do that to her. Walhart would have treated her with respect. Emmeryn… never hurt anybody. As much as I disagree with what you were as a young man, you were right to stop Gangrel. You can still help us do that. I know you don't want to kill anymore, but surely you still feel rage towards Gangrel and Aversa?"

Deep down, Chrom had always had a capacity for rage and violence. There was a reason why he took up the Falchion while his sisters preferred healing staves. Though Chrom tried to consciously suppress his anger ever since giving up the Falchion, it boiled over now. As Chrom looked over to the wall of a nearby building, he saw a larger than usual poster depicting Gangrel looking down on the viewer. He couldn't handle the emotions that flooded through his as he looked at his old foe in his still partially inebriated state, and he took the glass whiskey bottle in his hand. "Of course I do! Gangrel keeps killing my loved ones, even all these years later. I, I HATE HIM!" With an almost feral roar that shook everyone present to their bones, Chrom threw the bottle at the poster. It smashed against the wall and shattered, but the poster was hardly affected. Chrom calmed down, the sight serving as a metaphor for the futility of his anger.

"Calm down!" Ophelia implored.

"I-I'm sorry." Chrom took a deep breath. He could tell Ophelia's spell did work, but he was too intoxicated for it work immediately. "That didn't solve anything."

"What in tarnation?! You did not just vandalize a poster of the Emperor in front of us!"

Chrom noticed that Pheros' normally serious expression melted away, and she became gripped in genuine fear. "Oh no. Grimleal Enforcers. Why did we have to run into them?! Why does Naga hate us so much?!"

As Ophelia and Cervantes also tensed up, Chrom turned to see the same two Grimleal Enforcers that he confronted after they'd harried a woman outside of Throb. The armored man with the poleaxe and his masked companion were both walking towards the group, as were the three soldiers that had accompanied them earlier. The armored Enforcer stopped, gripped his poleaxe, and pointed towards them. "Stop right there, criminal scum! You've committed crimes against The Saltworks and her people. What say you in your defense?"

The masked man drew his short sword. "Spala-te pe dinti ca vin cu pula in inspectie!"

Cervantes and Pheros exchanged glances. "My boy, you may have just doomed us all."

"Enforcers aren't like Pacification Units. They won't ask for our cooperation. We'll be lucky if all they do is drag us into a back alley and break our hands." Pheros added. "They're also not stupid. If they see that birthmark…"

"Can we get away?" Chrom asked while watching the five men.

"I don't know that we'll be able to escape from them, especially since they can call for Pacification Squads to mobilize and flood the city streets, and they'll kill us if we anger them. Damn it, Chrom. Why did you do that?!"

"I… I just keep failing people."

Ophelia herself was initially frightened by the Enforcers, but this fear became determination as she heard her great uncle put himself down yet again. "No. We can deal with this. I… I have an idea."

"Ophelia, don't do anything stupid!" Pheros spat. Ophelia ignored her and pulled out the diamond again.

"Just be ready to move."

"You're going to bribe them?"

"Ooh, crafty. That just might work." Cervantes chuckled. Ophelia scowled at both of them.

"No! This is mine. Just keep calm, and wait for them to get closer."

And so the four stood their ground as the Enforcers yelled. Eventually the man with the poleaxe became frustrated enough to start walking towards them, though the other four men didn't join him. They instead moved to block the nearby streets, leaving the group surrounded. "Hey! I'm talking to you, consarn it!"

"Wait for it." Ophelia said with determination in her voice. Chrom didn't share it.

"Ophelia-"

"Wait for it!" Though no one was sure what Ophelia was trying to do, they didn't see any other options. Everyone did as Ophelia implored, and the Chosen Heroine stood tall and brave as the much larger man finally reached her. The man was about to raise his poleaxe and yell again, but Ophelia thrusted the diamond in his face. "Ha! You've fallen right into my trap, vile cretin! Now I shall channel magical energy into this diamond, and the blinding flash of light shall rend the clarity from your very eyes! You shall be left stunned, and we will make our escape. You've been outwitted!" Ophelia tried to perform her spell, but the Enforcer simply grabbed her hand and crushed it in his own armored gauntlet before she could, and Ophelia fell to her knees in agony. Pheros responded with a callous sigh.

"You're not one of those idiots that calls their attacks are you?"

"*sniffle*... n-no?" She answered through her groaning.

"How dare you?!" Chrom suddenly snapped. Not thinking clearly, he put all of his might into a strike against the man's armored chest, but the attack was of little consequence. Chrom only succeeded in injuring himself as his fist struck the steel plating, and he fell to his knees alongside his grandniece. Ophelia at least gave him a small smile as she slowly recovered from her own injury.

"Well… it means a lot that you tried."

"Wait a minute." Chrom looked up in horror as the Enforcer knelt down in front of him. Even through his close helm it was easy to see where his gaze was drawn to. "That birthmark on your arm. We're not far from Shepherd's Folly. Where the Falchion was found." The man gripped Chrom by the throat and forced him to his feet. "You're _him_ , aren't you? Well it must be my lucky day! I can't believe, I can't gods-damned believe you actually wandered into a Grimleal city all by your little lonesome, you feudalist, twinkle toed, mother loving, slimy little nematode prick tease! I could get a promotion for bringing you in!"

"Agh!" Was all Chrom managed to choke out in response.

Out of options, Pheros quickly drew a small holdout blade she'd somehow purchased or snuck into the city and tried to stab the Enforcer through a chink in his armor. The man briefly grunted, showing that the knife had reached his skin, but he was otherwise unfazed. "Aw, girl. You're gonna piss someone off hitting them with a knife that small!" Pheros quickly withdrew the knife and tried to go for the man's throat, but he let go of Chrom, grabbed her arm, and violently dislocated it. Cervantes also drew a hidden weapon, but the man simply kicked Pheros into him. At this point the other Enforcers also began to draw their weapons, and Chrom and Ophelia tensed up in fear as they prepared for the worst.

Chrom reflexively grabbed Ophelia and cradled her, anticipating gunshots from the other Enforcers. He closed his eyes as the cracking sounds of gunfire echoed through the city streets, but he didn't hear the bullets impacting anywhere near him. Furthermore, he only heard two shots, and they seemed to be one right after the other. Each of the other four Grimleal soldiers likely had a firearm, and they would've fired all at once. Cautiously bringing his head up, Chrom turned to see that two of the Grimleal soldiers now lied dead in the street. Chrom then noticed a figure on the rooftop of a nearby building, and he focused on it to see a dark skinned bald man with leather clothing. The same man that had threatened him in the Arch Surg safehouse. Lowering his double barreled arquebus, Malc simply nodded to Chrom before disappearing out of sight. Chrom wanted to investigate further, but his mind snapped back to the more immediate threats.

The third Grimleal soldier discharged his arquebus at Malc, and the armored man drew his carbine and did the same. Chrom instinctively covered his ears and recoiled at the deafening sound of the firearm going off right next to him, but Ophelia rose to her feet and tried to hurry him away to safety. Looking back, Chrom saw Cervantes reach for the Enforcer's discarded poleaxe, and the two men grappled for it while the masked Enforcer approached with his short sword drawn. Ophelia stepped forward and tried to telekinetically hurl small rocks, debris, and anything she could find really at him. Meanwhile, the far younger Enforcer slowly got the better of Cervantes, and only the elderly officer's sheer strength prevented him from being completely overpowered. Chrom felt that he had to help somehow, but he had no weapons, and the situation with Malc only confused him. Was this an ambush? Would gunmen come for him if he focused on the Grimleal? Chrom's mind blanked as the chaos erupted. He was never good with unexpected situations. The Shepherds had Robin make the tactical decisions for a reason, after all. Beyond that, guilt continued to consume him as he realized the situation was his fault. It was only the sound of a familiar voice that snapped him out of it.

"Blue!"

"Gaius?" It sounded too good to be true, but Chrom felt a surge of confidence as Gaius came running up to him. "Gaius!"

"Damn it, Blue! Move! They need your help, Chrom! Do what you always do! Save people!" Chrom realized as Gaius approached that he'd recovered the strange lance Old Hubba had given him. Chrom backed away at the sight. "Wait, you don't want me to use that do you?"

"I know you doubt yourself, Chrom, but we don't have time. They need you! That's all that matters!"

Without stopping, Gaius hurled Geirskögul at Chrom, and he caught it effortlessly. A smile slowly appeared on his face as he held the lance. If Gaius had offered it to him, he surely would have continued to doubt himself. He didn't feel like he deserved it. However, by forcing it into his hand, Gaius didn't give him the chance, and the Exalt was forced to see the reality of the situation. Chrom's allies needed him. His own thoughts didn't matter. Chrom turned to Gaius, who had since hurled some kind of smoke bomb at the third Grimleal soldier. "Thank you, old friend."

Meanwhile, Cervantes had been staggered after the masked Enforcer hurled a javelin into his back, and the armored Enforcer was finally able to throw him to the ground. Ophelia tried to telekinetically grip the man himself, but this was far more than she could manage, and the attempt left her exhausted. The masked man seemed to notice, and he prepared another javelin as he turned to Ophelia. "Jalnic!"

Ophelia desperately stuck her arms out and backed away. "Wait, wait! Maybe this is all a misunderstanding! Do you speak our language?"

The Enforcer stood tall and thumped his own chest. "I speak a language far superior to the barbaric tongue you people bark out here, but I do understand you. Even now, I only speak your language to mock you! Now, why don't you go piss in your own father's tooth cavities?!"

"What?!"

The Enforcer conversed no further, instead hurling a javelin at Ophelia. She furiously moved to dodge it, and she seemed to take some pride in managing to avoid the attack, but Ophelia wasn't able to prevent the man from charging and staggering her with a shield bash. "Mai are tac-tu copii proşti?!" He roared as he then tackled Ophelia to the ground. Stunning Ophelia with a headbutt as the two hit the street, the man readied his short sword and prepared to viciously drive it into her face. Ophelia was only given the chance to focus on the situation by the man's apparent vanity, as he triumphantly raised the blade into the air before bringing it down. "Adică, acești oameni, ei nu sunt nimic!" The man followed through with a downward thrust, but his blade stopped just centimeters from Ophelia's face. The ornately armored Enforcer put all of his strength into it, but the blade only shook in place. Just as when E-13 had almost killed her at Cordelia's homestead, Ophelia's fear and desperation here gave her the will to telekinetically resist the man's strike, and she managed to hold the sword in position. Still, Ophelia couldn't maintain this forever, and the Enforcer would've won eventually had the end of a lance not been thrusted through his back. Ophelia looked up in relief and awe to see Chrom propelling the Geirskögul into the Enforcer's abdomen. His cuirass was enough to save him from a fatal injury, but the man was still incapacitated with pain. "Nu ai onoare!"

Withdrawing his lance as the Enforcer keeled over, Chrom turned to see the armored Enforcer preparing to strike Cervantes down with his poleaxe. Pheros defiantly charged the man before he could, but she could do little to harm him with his heavy armor, and he simply laughed in her face. "Oh, bless your heart. You can't wait your turn!" The man got a solid grasp on his poleaxe and used the shaft to sweep Pheros off her feet. He then prepared for an exaggerated, execution styled swing of his axe as she desperately tried to recover. Pheros didn't make it back to her feet before the man had finished winding up, and he brought his mighty weapon down in a furious power blow. Pheros raised her arm and closed her eyes, but nothing happened. Confused, she opened them to find the Enforcer's poleaxe had been sliced in half mid swing. The blade itself was lying by the man's side, and he could do nothing but stare at it as he tried to understand the situation. "Err… hold up. What just happened?" The man's question was answered as the Geirskögul was thrusted into his thigh. Though the man's plate armor saved him from crippling injury, the otherworldly weapon was still able to penetrate it, and the Enforcer was racked in pain. "Gaaah! Lucina's tiara that stings!"

"Don't speak her name, and get away from my friends!" The man tried to swing at Chrom with what remained of his weapon, but he dodged it and struck at the man's helmet. Though Chrom wasn't as familiar with lances as he was with swords, the Geirskögul was very well balanced, and using it felt very natural to him. Ophelia's spell also continued to take its effect, and Chrom's inebriation was finally disappearing. Chrom was easily able to avoid the man's attacks, and he eventually managed to dislodge the man's helmet after several strikes from his lance. He finally brought the man to his back with another strike to the leg. As the fight was going on, the foreign Enforcer rose to his feet and tried to shoot Chrom in the back with his pistol, but it failed to fire. Inspecting it, the Enforcer found that Ophelia had telekinetically seized the hammer on the gun's firing mechanism, preventing the flint from striking the gunpowder. As the man stood in shock, or even embarrassment, Chrom turned and brought him down by striking his head with the shaft of the Geirskögul. Ophelia then kicked the Enforcer in the head for good measure, though it hurt her as much as it did him due to her preference for sandals.

"Ha! We did it, great uncle! I told you we made a good team, ow! Ow."

Chrom nodded to her, but he also looked to see Gaius grappling with the third Grimleal soldier. Though Gaius struggled to keep up with the younger man, he eventually managed to put a bullet through his chest with a concealed pistol. Chrom couldn't help but be a little upset at the number of concealed weapons everyone else seemed to have. Why couldn't he get one?

"Agh!" The man cried as he slumped to the ground. Gaius stood over him, placing his boot on the gunshot wound just to spite him. Chrom became alarmed at the display of cruelty, and he realized what was about to happen. "W-wait! WAIT! Argh! I-I have a family! I'm a father! I have TWO CHILDREN!"

"Gaius, wait! DON'T-"

"You should have thought of them when you were picking jobs." It was possible Gaius just didn't hear Chrom, but he was entirely callous in ignoring the man's pleas. Without any hesitation, Gaius drew a small throwing knife and sent it into the man's throat with a flick of his wrist, dooming him. Chrom shook with frustration as the man in front of him slowly died. It made sense that Gaius could take life so easily given what he'd done over the past thirty years, but he'd still never shown that kind of ruthlessness in front of Chrom before. He even seemed to have a small smile on his face as the man died.

"Gaius, you didn't… that didn't have to happen." Chrom stated in a defeated tone as he walked up. Gaius just glared at him like he did when Chrom refused to finish off Wolcroft and her soldiers.

"Uh, you're welcome for saving your life! It wasn't easy to pull that lance out of the ground, you know! Come on, we're not done. Finish off yours." Gaius unwrapped a lollipop and nodded to the Enforcer as he stuck it in his mouth. Sure enough, the armored man was trying to rise to his feet. He made it to his knees before Chrom brought the blade of the Geirskögul to his neck.

"Aw, hell. At least I'll be killed by someone important."

Chrom looked the man in the eye, and he tried to show him that he wasn't angry. "What is your name?"

"Huh?"

"You're not just a faceless man in a suit of armor. You have a name like everyone else. What is it?"

The Grimleal Enforcer was a fair skinned man in his early to mid thirties. He had fiery red hair, and his irises were also bright red. "Ashley."

"What man is named Ashley?" Gaius jeered as he walked up.

"I don't know. What man is named Chrom? What was going through your parent's heads? 'What should we name our son? William? Robert? Ted? Nah, nah let's name him Chrom!' What does that even mean? Ashley is a distinguished name for gentlemen."

"You're no gentleman." Ophelia scoffed.

"He's a willing member of an oppressive regime." Pheros added as she clutched her injured arm. "Kill him already."

"Yeah, I'm a naughty boy. Go ahead, Exalt. Kill me. Add me to your body count. Now my Ylissean history ain't the best, but I know you're not like Emmeryn. You killed everyone that got in your way. Now go ahead. Do it. I die a hero of the Grimleal!"

Thirty years ago, Chrom could have killed this man without a second thought, telling himself it was for the greater good. It was to bring peace. He might have even relished it. Now, things had changed. Chrom couldn't bear the thought of driving the lance into the man's neck. Of watching him go down in a spray of blood. Of watching the life leave him. Gaius, Pheros, and Cervantes started to shout at him, but Chrom wasn't paying attention. Violence just didn't come to him so readily anymore. It was one thing to save his allies, but it was another thing to kill a beaten man. Chrom also thought of Ophelia. She wanted so badly for him to be her mentor. What would killing this man teach her?

"This way. The gunshots came from this direction!" Chrom was snapped out of it as the sounds of approaching Grimleal reinforcements could be heard.

"Hurry up, Chrom!" Pheros shouted as the five turned to look. Ashley immediately saw his opportunity.

"Too late!" The Enforcer grabbed the Geirskögul and grappled with Chrom. Reacting quickly, Ophelia telekinetically seized the diamond and Ashley's close helm and threw the diamond into the helmet before wedging it back on Ashley's head. She then channeled magical energy into the diamond, the same spell she tried to use on Ashley before he stopped her. The helmet was flooded with blinding light, causing Ashley to stumble around. "ARGH! BRIGHT! I can't see a blammed thing!"

"Come on!" Ophelia shouted as she waved towards Chrom and the others. Knowing they couldn't deal with the Grimleal reinforcements, the group proceeded to leave the area, leaving the two Enforcers injured but very much alive.

* * *

The five bolted through the city and retreated into Throb as quickly as they could. The club had long since closed for the night, and the group wasted no time in trying to make their way through the empty floor and into the Arch Surg's hidden safehouse, but they weren't able to make it in before a pounding noise thundered from the door. "Hold on!" Cervantes barked. "Nobody move! I'll handle this." Cautiously, the veteran soldier walked back to the front of the business and slowly opened the door. There were no Grimleal soldiers. Rather, a robed man stood smiling.

"Hello there. Do you have a minute to talk about our lord and savior, Grima the Fell Dragon?"

Cervantes simply closed the door in the man's face. "It's okay! It was just a Grima's Witness."

Chrom turned back. "Huh?"

"Oh, just another dumbarsed church. Come on. Let's all get down to the basement and deal with this the Arch Surg way."

"Hiding from the Grimleal?" Gaius responded dryly.

"Exactly, my boyo."

"Grrg! My arm!" Pheros tried mending her dislocated arm herself, but she failed to do it properly with just her other arm. "My arm. Chrom, can you help me with this?"

"Y-yeah, sure." Chrom winced. "But I don't want it to hurt too much. Is there a healing staff you could use?"

"No! The Grimleal took that, and no we don't have one hidden here. Just pop it back into place."

"Are you sure?"

"You think that because I'm a woman I can't take it?! I've taken my fair share of hits Chrom, now do it!" Chrom complied and took Pheros' arm, but he hesitated at the thought of the pain it would cause. Pheros initially glared at him for his reluctance, but then suddenly smiled. "Be gentle."

Chrom remembered when he'd once said that to Pheros. "Of course." With one swift motion Chrom forced her arm back into place. Pheros did cry out, but she quickly caught herself.

"Duma's massive eye that… grrg! Th-Thank you, Chrom. I guess that's the best we can do now since we can't exactly go outside and see a healer."

Gaius paced back and forth. "The whole city is going to be on lockdown now. Damn it, Chrom."

Chrom seemed to want to fall back into his self loathing, but Pheros grabbed his shoulder and tried to nudge him down the stairs. "Come on. Let's at least get to the safehouse."

The group descended the hidden stairwell and returned to the main floor of the safehouse. Farber had returned here at some point, and he occupied himself with paperwork he filled out by candlelight. He paid little mind to his allies as they entered, short of breath and shook up. "Welcome back." He said without looking up. "Has something occurred?"

The run back to Throb was more physical activity than Pheros was used to, and she had to sit down and catch her breath. "You might say that."

"Finish up whatever you're doing, Farber. We're leaving this city first thing in the morning. Before they have the chance to lock it down completely."

Pheros nodded to Cervantes. "I agree. We'll leave as soon as we can tomorrow, but for now we need to lie low. We might as well get some sleep, though it'll only be a few hours before the sun comes up since it's so damned late."

"We're leaving immediately tomorrow?" Chrom asked nervously.

"It's not safe to stay here when the Grimleal locks down the city. Three soldiers died in that fight, Chrom, and we injured two Enforcers. They'll want to find who did it. Unless you want to stay in this basement for the next two months, we need to move now."

"What… what about Paul?"

Pheros had to think to even remember him. "The teenager from the farm?"

"He's the son of a man I fought beside, and he lost his family because we brought a war to his homestead. I'm not going to forget him! I've yet to see proof that you people have even taken care of him!"

"And what about Minerva?!" Ophelia said defiantly as she stepped beside her great uncle. "And my tomes?! My grandfather gave those to me before he died, and I'm not going to lose them because of you!"

Pheros gritted her teeth. It was clear none of this mattered to her, but she cared to make sure Chrom wasn't upset. "Farber… you weren't involved in what we just got away from. There's no chance the Grimleal will recognize your face. You… might have to stay here. Take care of Paul and Ophelia's wyvern, and try to acquire Chrom and Ophelia's weapons after we leave."

Farber shrugged. "Alright. I wasn't looking forward to the trip anyways. How can I secure the weapons without Chrom and Ophelia's traveling papers though?"

"Talk to our Red Syndicate friends. They might be able to set something up."

Gaius seemed to chuckle. Ophelia turned to him. "Hmm?"

"Huh? Oh, I didn't say anything."

Chrom looked over the Geirskögul as he turned to Gaius. "You retrieved this for me?"

Gaius shrugged. "You need a weapon. I know you don't think you deserve it, but it's true."

"Well… thank you, and not just for the weapon. Thank you for believing in me."

Gaius placed his hand on Chrom's shoulder, but he didn't smile back. "I know better than to think you don't still hate yourself. Still, you did good today. You saved Blondie and the Able Sierra." Gaius glared at Pheros and Cervantes. "You people should be thanking him!"

"He caused the problem in the first place!" Cervantes countered.

Chrom remembered Malc and how he'd threatened Chrom when they first met. "I can't take all the credit. Malc was there. He shot two of the Grimleal soldiers dead. Did you see that?"

"No. Malc?"

"The Red Syndicate man with the concealed gun. Why would he help us? How did he find us?"

"I don't know anything about that. Must have been a coincidence. Good thing he had a double barreled gun, huh?"

"I didn't say that. That's true… but I thought you said you didn't see him."

"Err…"

"Come to think of it, how did you find us?"

Gaius tensed up. "What are you trying to say?! I looked all over the city for you. That's how I found you. Are you working with the tax collection service? What's with all the questions?!"

"Gaius, I just wanted to know."

Gaius calmed down. "I'm sorry. I just need something sweet is all. It's been a long day."

"What we need is to go to bed." Pheros chimed in. "We have enough beds for everyone. We also have a bathtub you can use, Chrom. You shouldn't try to go through the Grimleal border checkpoints smelling like alcohol. Those clothes are also torn up. You need new ones."

Chrom looked over to a side room by the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a small bathtub wedged in there. It didn't look appealing at all. "Great…"

The safehouse's hidden bathroom, which was quite literally just that, featured a small wooden tub lined with a cloth to prevent splinters. Farber was tasked by Pheros with retrieving the water, and four times he ventured into the city to fetch buckets from the city wells. Though the Pacification Squads, now swarming the city streets like ants might when their nest was damaged, had no reason to stop Farber, it still looked rather suspicious that he ferried no less than four heavy buckets of water back to a closed strip club. The veteran officer had to take different paths to four different wells, and he was rather annoyed at his task by the time he returned with the fourth two handed barrel. Chrom had noticed that Pheros seemed to have some seniority over her Valmese comrades, but that didn't mean the officers in question had any love for her commands. Farber was done for the day after filling up the tub, and he was rather callous in using his magic to heat up the water. It was almost boiling when he was done, and Chrom had to wait some time before it was safe to get in. At this point everyone else had long since gone to bed, and Chrom very much wanted to retire himself, but he did want to get rid of the stench that followed him around now.

It said a lot about the way Chrom lived now that a short bath in a cramped tub in the corner of a dark basement was the most relaxing part of his day. Chrom enjoyed the water until it finally went cold, and he realized just how badly torn up his clothes were as he got out. Deciding to sleep in his smallclothes, Chrom crawled into the bed he was given only to find himself lying awake for well over an hour. As exhausting as the day had been, his mind refused to wind down. Sleep just wouldn't come, and Chrom eventually gave up. Figuring that the sun would be up in a few hours anyways, Chrom made himself a cup of coffee and took to simply sitting at the table in the center of the safehouse. He blanked out and completely lost track of time, and he wasn't sure how long it had been when Pheros stumbled into the room.

It was only after Chrom noticed Pheros that he remembered he was half naked, and Pheros' own attire didn't help the situation. Chrom's attention would have been drawn for only a second had Farber or Cervantes wandered in, but his more atavistic feelings caused him to unintentionally gaze at Pheros as she made her way to the table, wearing only a nightgown. It wasn't that her attire was immodest. It was more that Chrom had never seen her wear anything besides her red uniform. He was reminded that Pheros was a woman, and not just a tireless soldier.

For her part, Pheros didn't seem to notice Chrom. She didn't even seem awake as she accidentally bumped into the table while venturing to the kitchen. It was only then that she noticed Chrom sitting there. Chrom couldn't help but blush, but Pheros just yawned. "Oh, Chrom. What are you doing up?"

"S-Sorry! I forgot I wasn't wearing much."

Pheros rolled her eyes. "Oh please. The embarrassment of nudity is a privilege of the sheltered. I've been a soldier for a long time. I've seen plenty of men and women naked, and I mean full on naked."

"Err… alright."

"Mmm. Coffee, coffee, coffee." Pheros proceeded to make herself a cup, and Chrom's embarrassment slowly faded. In its place was a warm feeling. He realized he enjoyed spending time with Pheros, though he also remembered Ophelia's warning. "Anyways, what are you doing up?"

"I can't sleep. What about you?"

"I'm getting to be an old woman. I wake up in the middle of the night. So sue me." Pheros lit a candle on the table as she sat down, looking to Chrom as she did so. "Well look at that. You have your smallclothes on. You got all worked up over nothing."

"How old are you?"

"Fifty six. I honestly can't believe it's been over half my life since I served Walhart."

Chrom smiled. "You look younger than that."

"Flattery doesn't work on me… but thank you. I'd say it's healthy living, but it's really not. I just look young compared to you. Everyone does."

"You're telling me. Pheros… do I remind you of Jagen?"

"Hmm?"

"Never mind." Pheros took the time to enjoy her coffee, and Chrom found the silence wasn't awkward at all. Just being around Pheros was soothing to him, and he felt stress he didn't even realize he had melting away. "So… are you going back to bed?"

"I think I'll just get up for the day. Do some paperwork before we leave. I won't bother you, will I?"

"Not at all. Actually…" Chrom gave a sheepish smile. "I was wondering if we could talk?"

"About what? Our plans for when we leave the city?"

"Maybe. We could talk about anything really."

"How about what the hell you did earlier?"

"Oh."

Pheros spoke softly. "I'm not mad at you, Chrom."

"You're not?"

"Well… maybe a little… but I don't want you to get any worse. Chrom, you're stuck in this cycle of self loathing. You're so used to hating yourself that you don't want to accept the praise you get from other people. When people criticize you or blame you for something, you readily accept it, and it only furthers the cycle. Chrom… I hated you because I thought you were self righteous and one dimensional, but you're a very thoughtful and introspective man. I wish you felt better about yourself. I really do."

"I don't agree with you, Pheros. I deserve the hatred you had for me. I deserve to suffer. But… Ophelia is innocent. I need to be strong for her, and I do want to fight the Grimleal. I swore to keep fighting after Cordelia died, but-"

"So you want to be there for your grandniece, and you do want to fight the Grimleal, but you don't think yourself a hero?"

"I suppose."

"Well… Archangel can help you work it out."

"To be honest, Pheros, talking to you has really helped. I'm glad I have you by my side now."

Pheros brought her very light blue eyes to Chrom's own. Chrom smiled, but Pheros seemed to be struggling with guilt herself. "I can't believe this. Here we are speaking like we're allies." Pheros gently ran her finger along the scar she cut into Chrom's birthmark, and he shivered at the touch. "But it wasn't that long ago that I did this to you."

"I don't care about that anymore, Pheros."

"You don't? Chrom… you deserve honesty from me. I have grown to care about you, and I do want you to realize that you can still help the world, but at the end of the day, I'm just following orders. I believe that Archangel can help you, but I was ordered to bring you to her. Everything I do for you is part of that order. You should be wary of me."

"But I'm not. I trust you."

"That trusting nature of yours isn't a strength."

"And yet I feel happier for having you in my life."

Pheros didn't know how to respond to that at first, and she eventually laughed. "S-Shut up." She said, almost in a playful tone.

"But it's true. You… you really listened when I told you about those visions I've been having. It made me feel closer to you. You didn't have to listen to me… but you did. Besides… when we fought all those years ago… did I scar you?"

Pheros pressed her hand against her nightgown and ran her fingers down her chest, implying that there was a scar on her abdomen. "Of course. Sometimes… at night… I can still feel the Falchion going through me. It's ironic. As a priestess I worshipped Naga and the champions that fought for humanity against the degenerating dragons. When I became a soldier, a descendant of those heroes used a divine blade of Naga to strike me down. Yet here we are. Talking like we're allies."

"We've both scarred each other, Pheros."

"See, right there. That's what I'm talking about. I attacked you out of anger and pettiness, but you were justified in fighting me. You were just trying to protect your people. We're not equal. I wronged you, and you aren't justified in thinking that what we did to each other is the same. You want to believe that you wronged me, but you didn't. I hated you for destroying Walhart's dream, but not for fighting against me. You want so badly to continue that cycle of self loathing."

"I'm not mad at you for what happened, Pheros."

"Do you know why? Is it because you hate yourself so much that you actually think you deserve what happened?"

Chrom just looked back into her eyes and smiled wider. "It's because you're my friend, and I forgive you."

Pheros froze. "We're friends?"

"Aren't we?"

"I've never had friends, Chrom. I've devoted my entire life to my career. I've had comrades in arms, but not friends."

"Well… I feel close to you, Pheros. For everything you did to me, I'm glad you're by my side now."

Pheros just sat there, and Chrom didn't know what she was thinking. For a moment it looked like she was going to return a smile of her own, but she seemed to fight it. Chrom and Pheros mutually looked down to see that at some point, without either of them realizing it, Chrom had taken Pheros' hand in his own. Pheros let out a nervous exhale as she slowly withdrew her hand, grabbing her coffee cup as an excuse to justify it. "M-Maybe we should talk about something else."

"I-I'm sorry."

"Maybe I should get started on that paperwork." Pheros actually seemed to blush. It was rare that Chrom saw anything but her normal stoic look. "And m-maybe we should get you some more clothes."

Pheros lead Chrom up to business floor and had him pick out clothing from the stripper's wardrobes. If it even needed to be said, Chrom couldn't find anything he even remotely wanted to wear. "You've got to be kidding."

"This is an adult business, Chrom, so we have outfits for adult businesses. What's the matter?" Pheros smirked as she held up a perverse take on a Grimleal soldier's uniform. "You don't think you'd look good in this?"

"That's wrong on so many different levels."

Pheros shrugged as she tossed it to him. "Just put on different outfits."

Chrom combined different outfits until he was covered up. The result was a chaotic hodgepodge of different colors and themes, but at least he could go outside now. He noticed Pheros staring at his clothing. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure you have another comment."

"So this is what's become of the Exalt."

"Hilarious." Chrom said dryly. Pheros shook her head.

"I didn't mean to insult you. I was just thinking about our situation. Remember when I said how strange it was that we're allies now? It's also certainly strange the Exalt of Ylisse has to live like this."

"You're not insulting me?" Chrom responded in the same tone.

"Chrom… how do I phrase this… a consequence of the globalization the Grimleal has brought to the world is that a lot of people have come to this continent from foreign lands, and they brought their foreign languages with them. Languages don't just have different versions of the same words. Some languages have words that express ideas other languages need entire sentences for. Learning a new language can literally change the way you think. The way you comprehend ideas. Anyways, I've had to learn a little of these languages in order to work with different people in the various cities of the Grimleal, and I remember a word from one of these languages. It's 'déclassé'. Do you know what that means?"

"Something our language can't express?"

"Not quite, but it's still an interesting word. It means to have fallen in social class and status. You can think of it as literally being de-classed. Chrom, I think this word applies to you very well."

"Are you _sure_ this isn't an insult?"

"It's not just you, Chrom. Ophelia would have been a princess in a more peaceful time, but now she fights to survive. Gaius was always a thief, but he was recognized as a hero in the Shepherds. Now he had to work as an assassin. It also applies to Cervantes, Farber, and I. We used to be high ranking officials in the Valmese Empire, but now we're in an insurgency. Déclassé applies to all of us, but it's not necessarily a bad thing. We've all been given a chance to build a new world, Chrom." Pheros heard the rest of the group moving downstairs. "I know you think they've broken you, but it doesn't have to be that way. This is a chance to start over. Don't think of yourself as a broken man, but as a blank slate."

"Pheros…" Chrom slowly smiled. "Thank you."

"You're only accepting that because it isn't a simple compliment, but it's a start. I told you the Arch Surg can help you find meaning." Pheros returned a smile as the noises below grew louder. "It sounds like our allies are up. We should get going."

* * *

Pheros and Cervantes dressed themselves and rushed Ophelia and Gaius out of the safehouse, leaving Farber behind. Chrom had been awake the whole time and even he found himself being hurried out. The group moved through the streets of The Saltworks at a brisk pace, but they didn't go back to the southern gate. Pheros instead lead them through the center of the eastern district, avoiding the main streets. The group avoided many of the Pacification Unit patrols this way, but they were forced to weave through crowded alleys.

The Saltworks was like nothing Chrom had ever seen. Chrom hadn't really noticed much of the city while forcing his way through the city's main streets, but now the The Saltworks itself came to life in front of him. Street vendors set up shop along the sides of the alleys, and they peddled all kinds of things to Chrom and the others as they passed by. None of them took rejection personally. They simply turned to the people behind Chrom and tried again. The Grimleal's architecture was simple and brutalist, and yet that gave the city a unique feel from the older stone cities that had been standing for centuries. Chrom could see entire families squeezing into tenements. Parents hung their laundry from unbelievably small spaces, and children played various games along the steps, even running through the crowds with little thought for how annoying they were to adults. There were far more dark skinned people than Chrom was used to in the rather homogenous Ylissean continent, and hair and fashion styles beyond anything he could fathom could be seen everywhere. Chrom could hear at least sixteen different languages being spoken in just four city blocks. When street vendors weren't selling trinkets and souvenirs, they sold food. Many were immigrants, and they brought the cooking traditions of their homelands with them. Chrom couldn't recognize the majority of the food being made, but it certainly smelled wonderful. He couldn't help but find it exciting. It was alien, exhilarating, and mesmerizing all at once. As horrible as Grima was, and as much as Chrom hated Gangrel and Aversa, not everything the Grimleal had built was for the worse. Not all of the changes that had been brought to the world were harmful. "I have to say, this city is certainly interesting. I can't believe the Grimleal built something like this in just thirty years. How was this place founded?"

Pheros answered without stopping. "The salt mine this city was built around existed in Basilio and Flavia's time, but it was expanded significantly after it was purchased by a Grimleal joint stock corporation called Tridaris Mining and Manufacturing. They brought in a lot more miners, and they decided they'd make more money if they got the miners to stay here permanently. The miners didn't want to live in the middle of nowhere, so Tridaris had merchants set up nearby to cater to them. Pretty soon other corporations began coming here to get in on the profits. The miners grew, the merchants grew, the other corporations grew, and all of those groups had families they brought with them. The Saltworks was recognized as a city fifteen years ago, though some people have been living here for almost thirty years. It's now one of the largest cities in Western Ferox, rivaled only by The Boneworks, The Ironworks, and Port Ferox."

Ophelia frowned. "The Grimleal aren't very original with names are they?"

"That they are not."

Chrom looked around at the citizens of The Saltworks. "This place is wondrous."

Pheros turned to glare at him, though she still didn't stop moving. "You sound like you're impressed."

"I just can't believe they built a city larger than Ylisstol in the middle of nowhere like this. So many different cultures and languages. This is… amazing. Pheros, I know we have to stop Grima, but not everything the Grimleal has done is wrong."

"Remember, Chrom, these people are the enemy."

"What?!" Chrom looked down as a young girl wedged herself between his legs. Several other children followed her a few seconds later, and Chrom moved to the side to avoid them. "These people are innocent."

"There are no innocents in war. These people have parents, siblings, and children that serve in the Grimleal military. They pay taxes that go to the Grimleal government. They give gold to the Grimleal corporations. They are our enemy right now, but they can be saved."

"I can't believe that! These people have done nothing wrong."

"You're right, Chrom. Some things are better now, but the Grimleal can't be allowed to force humanity to the knee until Grima's Blight inevitably starves us to death. The Arch Surg will create a new society while allowing humanity to control its own destiny."

Gaius walked closer to Chrom. He spoke softly, though he really didn't care if Pheros actually heard him. "These Arch Surg types are impossible. Where does the woman begin, and where does the rhetoric end? Before the Arch Surg she was obsessed with Walhart, and before that she was preaching about Naga as a priestess. It's like she was spawned into existence just to be a mindless follower. If only we could attach something to her mouth to harness all that Pegasus dung. Infinite energy right there."

Pheros glared backwards, and Chrom shook his head. "Gaius…"

Cervantes and Pheros stopped by a small warehouse and gestured for the group to go inside. "This is it." Pheros motioned to the building. "This is how we'll leave the city. Did you know there was a Grimleal military parade yesterday?"

Chrom scowled as he remembered people cheering on the soldiers. "I did."

"Well it's supposed to be followed by a civilian parade today. We can't risk going through the city gates again. The Grimleal could have had portraits made from the eyewitness accounts of the Enforcers, and they might have those portraits in the security checkpoints. We're finished if they discover who you are, Chrom and Ophelia."

"So what's in here?" Ophelia wondered.

"A Red Syndicate plan for emergency situations. I can't promise it'll work, but I think it's the safest way out of the city. Inside this warehouse are costumes. We can blend in with the actors for the parade. We'll just find a group of them and follow them outside of a side gate. Guards won't suspect a thing. Then, while the parade is massing outside of the city, we slip back to the village outside of the southern gate and meet up with Algol."

Ophelia and Chrom both looked at each other. "You've got to be kidding me." Pheros shook her head at Chrom.

"Trust me. We wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't the safest way."

To everyone's chagrin, the costumes the Red Syndicate had provided for this eventuality were all Winter Festival themed. Though they would work for blending in with a parade, they would also cause the group to stand out. It was only October after all. Ophelia didn't have to change since her colorful outfit would work on its own, but Chrom and Gaius were made to adopt disguises. Gaius just put on a red shirt and pants, but Chrom was willing to commit to the Winter Festival theme. Embarrassing as it was, it still beat the stripper attire he had mashed together. Chrom ended up wearing a red tunic with golden trimming and buttons modeled after stars. A green ribbon also went across the top of his chest. He also wore brown pants and boots, and a red and white cape with a fluffy lining came down from his shoulders. His tunic notably had a green colored inside. To complete the outfit, Chrom was made to wear a red and white Winter Festival hat, and he carried a Sack o' Gifts. It was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing Chrom had ever worn in his life. The impromptu stripper outfit he'd traded for it was an incoherent mess, but at least it wasn't this breathtakingly, arse-grabbingly silly. Gaius fought the urge to break out laughing, and Ophelia giggled.

"Well, Chrom." She said while playfully elbowing him. "I guess you really are a _gifted leader_. Get it?"

"Did… did you just make a joke?"

"It's just… it sounded like something Henry would say if he were here."

Chrom looked over to Pheros and Cervantes. Pheros just put on a red dress with some green ribbons, though she kept her armor plating, but Cervantes also went all out with the Winter Festival theme. He put on a fluffy red and white suit complete with a red and white hat, black boots, a large black belt, and red mittens. He held the Geirskögul like a walking stick, disguising it by covering it with ribbons and bows. He looked as ridiculous as Chrom, but he also seemed to have fun with it. "Ho, ho, ho! Do I sell this look or what?"

Gaius shook his head, but he couldn't help but smile. "By gods. You were made for that role."

Cervantes nodded as he stroked his long, stark white beard. "Hell, I'm the one who makes this believable."

"I'm surrounded by children." Pheros groaned as she struggled with her dress. "Come on. We shouldn't be far from the side gate the actors will use to prepare for the parade. We just need to find a group of them to blend in with."

And so the Arch Surg officers put the plan into motion. Though the group caught a lot of side glances and jeers as they walked down the street, they eventually did manage to blend in with a crowd of performers preparing for the civilian parade. The actors certainly found their attire odd, but fortunately the nearby Grimleal Pacification Units didn't seem to care at all. Chrom breathed a sigh of relief. It actually seemed like the plan was going to work, at least until a crowd of children suddenly appeared to mob Cervantes. "It's the jolly old Spirit of Winter!" They would chant as they jumped up and down in excitement around Cervantes. The elderly general tried to look to the other performers for help, but they only stepped back.

"W-what the?!"

A little girl clinged to Cervantes' leg. "Yay! The Winter Festival is early this year! Did you bring presents, Spirit of Winter?!"

Cervantes looked to Pheros. She put on a very fake smile for the kids, but her tone made her thoughts on Cervantes' choice of outfit clear. "You realize you're dressed as the Spirit of Winter, right, Cervantes? You know, the figure from legend who gives out gifts to all the good little boys and girls? You're obviously not going to be able to get past children without drawing attention." Pheros looked over to see some Pacification Units looking at the commotion. "Do something. You're going to ruin our cover."

"Uh-" Cervantes looked to the children. "Ho, ho, ho! I suppose you boys and girls want presents?"

"YEAH!" They all shrieked.

"Ho, ho, ho! Well… I don't have any. Sorry, children. You'll just have to wait for winter."

The little girl frowned. "But you're the Spirit of Winter? You have to have presents!"

"Well… err… I do. Of course I do. It's just… you don't get any. You've all been naughty this year! Ho, ho, ho! Better luck next year!"

The children all looked as if they'd been punched in the gut, and some began to sniffle. Pheros glared at Cervantes. "I think a bunch of crying children will attract a lot of attention!"

"Err…" Cervantes glanced over to Chrom and his Sack o' Gifts. "Just kidding! Of course you all get presents. Just get them from my helper over there. Ho, ho, ho! Merry… Autumn, everyone!"

The children perked up and mobbed Chrom instead. The Exalt quickly stepped back and put the other performers behind him, preventing the children from surrounding him, but they still jumped up and down in excitement in front of him. "W-what?!"

The little girl wrapped herself around Chrom's leg, and she didn't react to his attempts to gently shake her off. "Can we have our presents now, mister?"

Chrom thought about giving the children the presents in his bag, but they were probably fake, and the children would certainly attract attention if they all started crying after opening empty boxes. More than that, Chrom didn't want to do that to them. "Well… have you all been good little boys and girls?"

The little girl thought about it. "I don't know. You tell us."

"We've all been good, right?" Another girl asked.

"I helped my parents with chores all year. I should get presents!" Another boy said.

Chrom shook his head as he looked over to the Pacification Units that were staring at him. "No one can tell you if you've been good. You have to decide for yourself."

"Just tell me if I get presents!" The little girl on his leg whined. Chrom thought back to the children that cheered on Captain Grimleal during the military parade. He thought of all the children that knew nothing but the Grimleal. Hell, there were a lot of adults now that had been born after the Grimleal took over the world. They never knew anything else. Chrom became very serious, and his voice was determined as he spoke to the children.

"No one can tell you if you're good. When I was a young man, I thought myself a hero. I see now that I was just a teenager living out a power fantasy. I surrounded myself with my friends. I didn't listen to anyone else. I went where I wanted. I did what I wanted. Then… a mad man took my elder sister from me. I was filled with rage, hatred, and vengeance, and it would have consumed me were it not for those friends. They gave me guidance and believed in me. They did not preach answers or tell me what to do. They taught me to look past my instincts. Thanks to them, I defeated the mad man, and I continued to depend on them until they too were taken from me. Now I see that everyone has to figure out for themselves what righteousness is. There are many people that will try to take away your freedom, and many of you will gladly give it in exchange for security, but you all have free will. You have to decide for yourselves what is right. No one can give you the answers. Not the Spirit of Winter. Not Captain Grimleal. Not Gangrel, or Aversa, or the Fell Dragon. No government can give you the answers. No god. No book. No hero. No man or woman. Do not allow the Grimleal to tell you how things should be. Don't follow them… or me… or anyone else. You have to decide for yourself what is right." The children just blankly stared at Chrom, and eventually they began to back away. Chrom noticed that the Pacification Units had lost interest, and he nodded to Pheros. "Alright. I think this is our chance."

Gaius stepped forward. "Well. That was… something." Gaius looked saddened as he got closer to Chrom, and Chrom knew what was happening.

"This is it, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Gaius-"

"Don't bother, Blue. We both know we can't change each other's minds. I just wanted to say goodbye before you left." Gaius' voice choked up. He tried his best to seem apathetic and distant, but Chrom could see how pained he was. "Let's not make this take any longer than it has to. Goodbye, Chrom."

Ophelia looked back and forth between the two. "You're leaving?! How dare you?! Chrom needs your help, and you're just going to abandon him?!"

"Ophelia!" Chrom shot. Ophelia was genuinely surprised, and as she looked between the two men, she realized they had no anger towards each other. Gaius nodded and began to walk away, but Ophelia's words did get to Chrom. She gave him a confused look, and she frowned when he finally met her gaze.

"You're not going to say anything else?"

Chrom sighed. "Gaius! Wait!" For a moment Gaius looked annoyed as he turned back, but he returned a more sorrowful look when he realized Chrom wasn't going to argue. Chrom began to slowly step forward. The two men embraced when he finally reached Gaius, and they held each other for a few seconds before ending their hug with an affectionate pat on the back. "Good luck, Gaius." Chrom said in a shaky tone. Gaius gave his old friend one last smile, and it cheered Chrom up somewhat.

"You too, Blue. You too. Take care of Blondie, huh?"

"Of course."

Gaius patted Chrom on the shoulder, and the two shared one last moment before he turned to leave. Chrom forced himself to turn back to the others, and after a long, deep breath, he nodded to Pheros and Cervantes. "Alright. I'm ready."

Ophelia could only stare at her great uncle, somewhat stunned at the emotion he'd displayed, but also that the two could part ways because of a disagreement without any animosity. Even Pheros looked moved. "I'm sorry, Chrom. It means a lot that you're this dedicated to meeting Archangel."

"Let's just get out of here."

* * *

Hours after leaving Chrom, Gaius made his way to an outdoor table of a bar in the city's western district. A man in a distinctive salmon colored suit sat by himself, and he smiled as Gaius approached. Despite being hostile to the man before, Gaius smiled back. "Well hello there, stranger. I haven't seen you since you pretended not to know me back at Throb."

"Roy-Earle." Gaius sat beside him. "Chrom has left the city. It's time to begin our operations."

"Ease off the reins there, babydoll. What's the rush?" Roy-Earle took a deep breath of his cigar as he offered his glass to Gaius. "Brandy?"

"No thanks. I don't really like strong alcohol." Gaius' hands were filled with a metal flask and a chopped stock of sugarcane he had purchased at a market. He offered Roy-Earle the flask. "Want some of mine?"

"Uh… heh, what is it?"

"Why don't you find out?"

Roy-Earle took a quick sip, and he immediately recoiled. "Gods! That's so sweet! I can't even taste the alcohol."

"I didn't say it was alcoholic. It's sugarcane juice."

"Excuse me?"

"They have machines that squeeze the liquid right out of sugarcane. You can drink it as a beverage. Now I can wash down my sugar with more sugar!" Gaius chewed on his sugarcane, sucking out the sweet parts of the plant before spitting out the fiber. He then took back his flask and drank yet more sugar. "Ah, nothing like sugar right from the stalk."

Roy-Earle just stared at him. "You know, everyday you should thank Naga you still have any teeth left."

"Alright, let's get back to business. Where are our associates?"

Roy-Earle raised his glass and swirled his brandy around before drinking the rest. "Malcy-boy. Boss man's calling you!"

Gaius was startled as a fist slammed into the table beside him, and he looked over to see Malc leaning into it. "I can hear just fucking fine." Malc brought his brown eyes to Gaius, but the thief just smiled in response. "By the way, you're welcome for saving Chrom's life! Grimmies almost shot him in the back."

"You want a medal just for doing your job, Malcy-boy?"

"Don't call me boy!"

"Oh don't take it so personally. Everyone's a boy to him and I." A woman's voice said. "We've been in this game a lot longer than you two."

The three men turned to see a middle aged woman with red eyes and red hair kept in a ponytail. Gaius smiled wider and raised his arms. "If it isn't Anna! My favorite merchant!"

Anna rested her index finger on her chin, the trademark pose of her family. Though the Anna that had joined the Shepherds died when they fell, she was hardly the only red headed, money loving merchant. This was the Anna that had met the Shepherds earlier, but didn't join them. She smiled at Gaius, but he could tell there was a silent fury behind her eyes. "So this Chrom. He's gone, right?"

Gaius nodded. "Left the city. You won't run into him."

"He better not run into me, for his sake."

"Still angry with him?"

"He got my sister killed, hon. How can I get over that?"

Gaius didn't feel that way about Chrom anymore, but for thirty years he'd hated him. He knew exactly how Anna felt. "I can't say I blame you. Anyways, now that the gang's all here, it's time to get to work."

"You have another batshit crazy scheme to make money?" Malc growled.

"We don't pay you to think, Malc, so why don't you just sit down and listen?"

Malc did take a seat at the table, but he continued to glare at Gaius. "There's more to life than money, you know."

"Don't tell me how to do my job, boy. I built the Red Syndicate with my own hands. What the hell have you ever built?!"

Anna smiled to Malc. "Money is everything, love. Money say jump, you say how high."

"Besides, this is just a normal supply order from the Arch Surg. Shouldn't be that hard."

Malc gritted his teeth. "You know, one day I'll have an enterprise of my own. I won't always be a hired gun. I'll do my own work!"

"Heh, you're a funny guy, Malc."

"What do you mean I'm funny?"

Gaius just shrugged. "You know, you're funny."

"What do you mean, you mean the way I talk? What?"

Gaius' smiled faded, and Anna frowned. "Malc. Calm down."

Roy-Earle nodded towards the table. "Come on, Malc. Let it go."

"No, no. He's a big boy. He knows what he said."

Gaius nervously leaned away from Malc. "I don't know. You're just funny."

"You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown? I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?"

"Just… you know. How you say things. You're funny. That's all."

"No I don't know. What's so funny about me? Huh? HOW THE FUCK AM I FUNNY?!"

Gaius tensed up as Malc leered over him. Anna and Roy-Earle became silent, fearing the worst, but Gaius suddenly started to laugh as he playfully shoved Malc back. "Man, get the hell out of here!"

Anna and Roy-Earle chuckled, and Malc eventually smiled back. "Hey, Malc!" Roy-Earle laughed. "You really are a funny guy!" Malc drew his sawn off firearm and stuck it in Roy-Earle's face, but this only made the two men laugh harder. Gaius eventually calmed down, and he raised his arm to quiet down the rest of the Red Syndicate.

"Alright, alright. Enough of that crap." He said, still smiling. "We have money to make." Gaius pulled out the paperwork Pheros, Cervantes, and Farber had been working on the previous day. They obviously didn't know that Gaius himself would be receiving the papers. They had simply left the supply order at a secure pickup site, and Gaius had taken it while ambling through the city after Chrom left. "Able Sierra want a supply shipment from us. Anna, you're going to give it to them."

"And what is it that they want?"

"Guns. Lots of guns. They also filled out one of their special orders. Remember, Anna, Keith hates these special orders."

"Keith? The boy who likes Lucina a little too much?"

"Yeah. If he catches you with a special order he'll burn your carriage, and he won't reimburse you. Make sure another Arch Surg officer takes the shipment. Think you can handle this?"

Anna winked at Gaius while smiling. "Are you kidding? This is easy. I don't even have to make anything. I just source product and sell it to someone else at a higher price. It's a merchant's paradise."

Gaius nodded and turned to Malc. "You don't have anything to do. Go with Anna. Product the product."

Anna chuckled. "I can take care of myself, hon."

"That's what your sister thought."

At the mention of her, Anna's soft features twisted into a scowl, but Gaius simply turned to Roy-Earle. "I have a special task for you." He pulled out the cylinder and hammer he'd taken off of Wolcroft's New Model Ranger and gave them to Roy-Earle. "These are part of a new Grimleal firearm. A revolver with a mechanically indexing cylinder. I need you to try and find a gunsmith that can reverse engineer this firing mechanism. I want to be able to mass produce these guns."

Roy-Earle's eyes widened, and he gave a nervous laugh. "Heh, look, if the Grimleal finds out I don't pay taxes on the alcohol I sell in my establishments, they'll send me to a comfy, minimum security prison. If they catch me with stolen military grade technology, they'll send me to Imperial, maximum security, pound you in the rear prison!"

Gaius put his hand on Roy-Earle's shoulder. "Look, you're the best man I have for this. If we can reverse engineer these firearms, then the Red Syndicate will be able to mass produce weapons on par with what Grimleal special forces are given. Think of what we could do with that kind of firepower. I'll give you all the money you need. Can you do it?"

Roy-Earle took a long hit from his cigar. "Alright, alright."

Gaius nodded and pounded his hand on the table. "We all have our jobs, now move if you want to get paid. Dismissed. All of you."

Anna and Malc got up and left, but Roy-Earle took his time. "Gaius, what are you doing with that good looking friend of yours?"

"You let me worry about the Exalt."

"Look, I'm pretty good at reading men, and this one strikes me as… what's a good word… moral. Chrom's not going to be happy when he finds out what you really are, and he isn't going to want to be brought into our fold."

"Just drop it, Roy-Earle."

"I can tell you really care about him, but you're not thinking. Chrom thinks he's leading you. He thinks you're part of his story. When he lead the Shepherds, he was used to everything being about him. He commanded everyone. No one did anything independently of him. None of the Shepherds went out and created global criminal syndicates. When he finds out exactly what you've done over the past thirty years, he'll fear you. You won't be his friend anymore."

"Look, I can mold Chrom. I can make him see things our way. I just need time." Gaius paused. "Wait. What did you call me?"

"Gaius? Ain't that what Chrom called you?"

Gaius smiled, but he also approached Roy-Earle in a threatening manner. "Well, we all have birth names. Chrom calls me that because he doesn't know any better, but you will call me by my _real name_. Got it?"

"Of course… Nero."


	50. The Raptor

The group wasted no time in making their way back to the small village outside of The Saltworks. To the surprise of Chrom and Ophelia, Algol had actually held on to the Parallel Falchion. Chrom thanked him, but Pheros ordered that he stay behind and assist Farber. Pheros then rented a carriage, and the group departed for Fort Morgan. The venture to The Saltworks was over, and Farber, Algol, Gaius, and Henry had been left behind.

By the following day, the group had finally reached the outskirts of Death Valley. This was the hottest and driest section of the Feroxi Badlands. There was virtually no vegetation of any kind, water was scarce, and the rocky outcroppings were so severe that many areas could not be traversed on foot. In the flatter areas of Death Valley, rock, clay, and shale had become sand and dust. Chrom found himself constantly sweating, and he'd been sitting the whole time. Looking around, no one else was doing any better. Cervantes seemed especially uncomfortable given his huge beard.

"Hot as hell down here."

"Yeah, but at least it's a dry heat." Pheros responded.

Chrom noticed that Pheros was directing the carriage towards a small outpost with a number of camels kept nearby. Ophelia had never seen camels before, and she stared incredulously as the group got closer. "Gods! What horrible affliction befell those horses?!"

Chrom chuckled, having thought the same thing when he first saw them. "Those are camels, Ophelia. They're good for arid environments."

"Trust me." Pheros added. "You'll be glad we have them."

Pheros stopped the carriage and paid the workers there to exchange the carriage horses for the dromedaries. The group also stopped to rest and have a quick meal. Chrom ate some of his food, but he couldn't bring himself to finish eating. The only thing the outpost offered to drink was beer, and Chrom recoiled at the very sight of it. Beyond that, he was far too worried about meeting Archangel to have much of an appetite. He got up and excused himself as the others ate, and he'd been staring off into the badlands for some time when Pheros eventually followed him outside. "Hey there."

"Is there a problem, Chrom?" Pheros looked him over, scanning for the slightest signs of something bothering him. Pheros had a way of probing Chrom, and it was hard to hide anything from her. He wasn't sure he was fond of it.

"I'm just not hungry."

"We're still a few hours away from the fort."

"I'm fine."

Pheros stepped forward and looked out over the badlands with Chrom. "Was it the beer? I noticed you became stressed when you saw there wasn't anything else to drink. I also noticed you didn't take a sip of it."

Chrom sighed. Nothing got past Pheros, but she always did have insights to share whenever he was honest with her. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with telling her the truth. "It was. Why don't they have anything else to drink?!"

"Supplies are hard to come by out here, and clean water isn't always available. There's something about alcohol that makes it less likely to be contaminated with sickness. That's probably why humans started making it in the first place. After all, a few beers will make you a little light headed, but a sip of contaminated water can give you stomach problems for the rest of the day. Why don't you want it?"

"Because… I just…"

"You don't trust yourself around alcohol?"

Chrom nodded. "I started drinking after… it happened… but for thirty years all I had were light beers and kumis. Since I've travelled to these larger settlements I've had drinks I can actually stomach, and I sometimes lose control around them. In Nowi Falls I lost myself in a bar. I even… I even struck Cordelia. Then it happened again yesterday. I'm sorry, Pheros. If I hadn't started drinking, then we wouldn't have had to leave the city like that."

"Chrom!" Pheros' voice sounded calm and compassionate, but it also sounded like she'd just caught herself from snapping at him. "Please. You really can't afford to get any worse. Don't criticize yourself. Just think about the future. If you don't think you can control yourself around alcohol, then it's good that you're trying to stay away from it." Pheros smiled. "I'm proud of you." Chrom didn't say anything in response, and Pheros' smile faded. "I'm sorry. I realize now that might have sounded patronizing."

"No, nothing like that." Chrom was nervous about seeing Archangel, but he wasn't afraid. At least, not for himself. Looking into Pheros' eyes, Chrom remembered Old Hubba's words, and he realized it was for her safety that he felt fear now. "Pheros…" Chrom thought about what Gaius said and how the knowledge that the Arch Surg fort was under Mustafa's control could be used to give him an edge over the officers, but he didn't like keeping this from Pheros. What if it lead to her being hurt? "Do you know what's waiting for us back at the fort?"

"No. Cervantes and I haven't been to Fort Morgan since we left to find you. I understand it's entirely possible the rebelling soldiers might have seized control of it. We'll approach very cautiously. If the fort is safe, then we'll wait there to regroup with Arch Surg forces that will take us to the capital of Belfire. If it isn't, then we'll simply make our way to a known Arch Surg supply line and go from there."

Chrom took a deep breath. Though it meant giving up a potential advantage, Chrom worried too much for Pheros to let her walk into what could have been a trap. He had to tell her what Old Hubba told him. "Pheros… when Gaius and I were talking in the city, we encountered Old Hubba. He'd been sent by Mustafa to find us."

Pheros' eyes widened, as if she immediately realized what it meant. "Mustafa sent him?!"

"Mustafa is in control of the fort. He has Keith and his loyalists under siege. If you go there… he'll capture you. Probably use you as a hostage."

"Chrom… you didn't have to tell me that."

"But I want to see Archangel, and I didn't want you to get hurt. Telling you was the honorable thing to do."

"Yes. That was a very noble thing to do, Chrom. Of course, Pheros and Cervantes are too valuable to go free, so we thought ahead."

Chrom and Pheros turned in a panic to see none other than Mustafa. Surrounding him were the "employees" of the outpost, and they all pointed weapons at Pheros. They were considerably less hostile to Chrom, and Mustafa approached him in a friendly manner. "Chrom! I see you're well!"

"Mustafa?!" Chrom recognized some of the soldiers by Mustafa from the fort. "You really did take control of the insane soldiers."

"They weren't insane, Chrom. They were just angry. Now, we are directing that righteous anger towards those that deserve it."

Chrom looked back to Pheros with guilt. "I-I didn't know. I'm sorry!"

"I'm not angry with you, Chrom." Pheros responded in a genuine tone as she raised her arms. "You tried to warn me, and I didn't see how you could have known. Actually, I'm not even angry with you, Mustafa. Setting a trap at the outpost carriages need to get through Death Valley? Clever. What happens now?"

"You're coming with us, Pheros. We will try to open up negotiations with Archangel, and you, Cervantes, and Keith will be our hostages until those negotiations are complete. We'll feed and care for you, and you won't be harmed so long as you cooperate."

"Wait!" Mustafa looked curiously at Chrom, who was almost trembling with worry. "What about Ophelia?"

"She's with you, Chrom. She's free. That being said, we would be honored if you would return to the fort with us. We've created a safe haven there."

Chrom nodded. "But, Mustafa, please just… don't hurt Pheros. Don't restrain her! Don't do anything like that!"

"She's a prisoner, Chrom."

"But… please treat her with respect."

Pheros wasn't sure what to think. Part of her seemed moved, but another part of her seemed insulted. "Chrom, I am a soldier. I don't need to be coddled."

To the surprise of both of them, Mustafa nodded. "Very well. If you and Cervantes cooperate, then we won't restrain you. Now come. I must return to my soldiers."

Chrom nodded. "Thank you."

* * *

Mustafa had respected Chrom's wishes, and Cervantes and Pheros were left unrestrained as Mustafa's forces made their way back to Fort Morgan. That being said, Mustafa had made sure to sit right next to them on the carriage. Even if there was nothing stopping the two from jumping out, they wouldn't manage to get very far. For their part, Pheros and Cervantes were calm and cooperative, but they weren't overly thrilled at the situation.

Chrom and Ophelia both sat together on the top of the carriage. Chrom hadn't been able to see outside when Keith had first brought him to the Arch Surg's fort. The landscape was foreign to him now, but even then he immediately recognized the long climb up the hill that the Arch Surg convoy had to make. Looking up, Chrom could see Fort Morgan and its extensive wooden palisade. The battle Chrom and his allies had escaped from hadn't been kind to the fort, and signs of extensive damage could be seen in the Arch Surg infrastructure as the carriages approached, but the fort's gate was still intact and sealed. It slowly swung open as Mustafa's forces approached, and the former Plegian general smiled in triumph. Chrom himself breathed a sigh of relief. Though he worried about Pheros and Cervantes, this would be the first safe place Chrom and Ophelia had to stay at since Isaiah's homestead. At least, that's what he thought.

Mustafa's soldiers stood at attention as the two carriages entered the fort itself, and Mustafa returned a heartfelt smile. Chrom looked uneasily at them as the carriage went by. After all, these were the very same soldiers that had tried to kill him and Ophelia after Henry lifted his curse. To his surprise, the soldiers looked perfectly normal now. Mustafa really had managed to rally them. They hadn't really gone insane. They were just angry, and Mustafa had convinced them to turn that anger on those truly responsible for what had happened to them.

The carriages stopped not long after entering the fort, and Mustafa urged Pheros and Cervantes to get off before himself setting his feet on the dusty surface of the badlands. Chrom and Ophelia exited the interior of the carriage. Some of the soldiers greeted Chrom, but he didn't feel comfortable talking to them. It wasn't that long ago they tried to kill him when he was forced to escape the fort. As the soldiers took up position by Pheros and Cervantes, Chrom looked over to see Mustafa speaking with a young woman. Though Chrom couldn't have known, this was the very same woman that Mustafa had once spoken to for being unable to complete combat training. She and the rest of his recruits had apparently been brought into the Arch Surg by Henry's curse, as they'd turned on Mustafa once it was lifted, but now she stood as loyally as the rest of the soldiers. Chrom couldn't help but have respect for him. Mustafa truly had appealed to them, and they followed him willingly now.

"Mustafa, sir!" The woman stood at attention. "You've returned."

"Yes, and now we have our prisoners." Mustafa gestured to Pheros and Cervantes. Pheros only returned a glare.

"You all will pay for this treason." Pheros looked to Cervantes for support, but he was too busy combing his beard to notice.

"Damned badlands air. My beard is getting all frizzy."

"Cervantes!"

"Hmm? Were we talking?"

"Ugh."

Mustafa just chuckled at the two. He wasn't intimidated in the least. "With these prisoners, we can force Archangel to negotiate with us. She wouldn't abandon her own son and two of her veteran generals after all. Now, take Pheros and Cervantes to the prison we set up."

The young woman rubbed the back of her neck. "Err… Mustafa. There have been some changes since you left."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… after you left… the Arch Surg sent reinforcements."

"Where are they now?"

The woman couldn't look Mustafa in the eye anymore, and the former Plegian general slowly reached for his axe. "Forgive us, Mustafa. We only wanted to survive. These weren't normal soldiers. These were Archangel's stormtroopers. We didn't stand a chance… so we let them in without a fight. You're not in charge anymore. I'm sorry."

"What?!" Sensing someone behind him, Mustafa drew his axe and turned to see none other than Keith. Keith had his personal pistol, identical to Chrom's Thundergrypp, pointed at Mustafa's face, and he was forced to drop his axe. Even then, the Plegian general showed no fear, and his voice was calm. "Keith."

"You're a traitor, Mustafa. You've turned against my mother and her revolution!"

"Keith… please. We treated you with respect when you surrendered to us. We never harmed you, and we let you keep that ridiculous outfit. Surely I deserve the same respect."

"You deserve a bullet in the face. You deserve to be a feast for vultures. You and the traitorous dark mage, Henry. While we're on that subject, I haven't heard from Vasto in awhile. The Archanean Liberation Front has started to receive the money from Tiki's bounty, but Vasto hasn't reported back. Maybe Archangel shouldn't have trusted Plegians."

"How dare you. Henry created that curse on Archangel's orders, and now you turn on him just because he wanted to be with his granddaughter. All of this is Archangel's fault, Keith. Vasto probably left because he realized the insanity of selling a god to the Grimleal! I served under Gangrel when he was king of Plegia, and I realized then I was on the wrong side. I swore I would never be a part of an army that would commit such atrocities again. Archangel is a monster, Keith."

"My mother is the future of humanity! I should kill you as a traitor to the revolution, but it's not my place. Archangel's officers will deal with you."

Chrom and Ophelia had been listening to the conversation as it went on, but they couldn't do anything to interrupt. Arch Surg troopers had stuck guns to the back of their heads as soon as Mustafa left the carriage. Turning to them, Chrom noticed that these weren't regular soldiers. Though most Arch Surg soldiers didn't have standardized equipment, these men all looked completely identical. They all wore light leather armor with a few pieces of metal plating protecting their chests, legs, and arms. Round metal shields were strapped to their arms, and they wielded bows, swords, axes, short spears, and fuse lit grenades alongside their pistols. Most notably, each man had his face covered by a metal mask depicting a grimace. These soldiers forced Chrom and Ophelia to move further away from Mustafa, and more of these soldiers moved to surround the man. Mustafa gave Chrom an apologetic look as they took him away. "Chrom, I'm sorry. I couldn't have seen this coming. These men almost never leave Belfire."

Keith turned and walked over to Chrom. It had been almost two weeks since Chrom had last seen the Justicar, but he could happily go the rest of his life without ever having to endure the haunting visage of his deceased daughter that Keith displayed. Sure enough, Keith was still in his Lucina outfit. He still had his customized estoc, and he still hid his eyes behind a replica of her butterfly mask. Chrom was filled with rage at the sight of him, and if the expression Keith made was any indication, he felt the same way. "You!"

"Chrom. It's been some time since we've seen each other. You may have slipped through my grasp before, but I see that you've been brought here anyways. Archangel always gets what she wants in the end."

"I chose to come here, Keith. All I ask is that I be treated with respect."

Keith just silently snarled in response, and his outfit only added to the look. With her hair tied back and her eyes hidden behind an emotionless metal mask, Lucina could give a surprisingly menacing appearance in her "Marth" disguise. Beyond that, Keith was like a dark, twisted mirror of Lucina. He wore the same trappings, but there was nothing noble about his appearance. He was only threatening. Keith was a very tall man. He had almost a head on Chrom, and he would have been a little taller than even the largest of the male Shepherds. However, he was also very skinny, to the point of being gangly. It was an unusual body type, and he barely fit into the replica of Lucina's outfit. Though he was too tall for it, and though the stitching was visibly stressed, he actually was about as thin as Lucina had been.

Chrom found himself staring down Keith, who didn't say anything further, but he felt relief as Pheros and Cervantes walked up. Chrom almost allowed himself to hope that Pheros would get Keith away from him, but he then remembered Keith outranked her. Looking at her, Chrom realized Pheros and Cervantes weren't in control of the situation at all. Though the strange soldiers were on their side, the two Valmese generals seemed to look at them with fear and suspicion. Chrom stared at Pheros until she finally responded, and there was fear in her eyes as she spoke. "Chrom. These men are Archangel's elite. They almost never leave Belfire. I don't… I don't know what's happening."

"These soldiers-" Keith looked around, speaking about the soldiers as if they weren't any friends of his either. "They're my mother's personal guard. They're called the Immortals. They and their Captain go where she goes, and she almost never leaves the capital."

Chrom's eyes widened. "You're saying she's coming here?!"

"I guess she doesn't want you to escape."

"I want to see her, Keith. There's no need to threaten me."

"You don't understand. I'm not in control of these men."

گهه زیادی نخور. پسر نمی خواهد در کار یک مرد موفق.

Pheros and Cervantes froze, and even Keith seemed frustrated. Chrom turned to Pheros. "Who was that?!"

"The Captain of Archangel's guard. Her inner circle is here."

"I thought you, Farber, and Cervantes were her inner circle?!"

"Yes… but we're not in the deepest ring."

Chrom and Ophelia turned to see three men approaching. The strange Arch Surg soldiers gave little mind to Keith, Pheros, and Cervantes, but they knelt before the three as they approached. "That was very good, Şeytankulu." One of the men said. "You almost have a mastery on the Parsa language, but your grammar is still a little flawed."

متاسفم. من هنوز هم یادگیری.

"Now, now, boys." The lead man responded. "None of your foreign tongue. Let's speak so our guests can understand us."

The three men that stood in front of Chrom now immediately commanded the attention of everyone nearby through their appearances alone. Like Keith, they were all very menacing. Unlike Keith, this wasn't because they were dressed as haunting reminders of Lucina. These men were just straight up scary looking.

Şeytankulu wore clothing of a design that was as alien to Chrom as the language he spoke. His chest was protected by strips of iron tied together with leather straps, and this was worn under an ornate gilded silver padded vest. The man's arms featured sleeves coming from the vest, and his forearms were protected by swirled metal vambraces. He wore a very light blue cloth wrap and a belt with a large silver buckle, and his legs were covered by metal greaves with puffed out thighs. He also wore brown boots and had a blood red cloth with three sky blue stripes going through it wrapped around his neck. Like the Immortals, Şeytankulu covered his face with a metal mask. This mask was largely featureless, with hollowed out cheekbones and small slots for his eyes and mouth. On the top of his head was a metal cap that swirled like an expensive chocolate, and below that was a tiara. To clarify, tiara in this context did not refer to the headwear that Lucina and Marth once favored, but to a cloth that could be pulled over the face to protect against wind and dust in arid environments. Şeytankulu had a carbine slung at his lower back, but other than that his only weapon seemed to be a large soliferrum spear. The soliferrum was a kind of javelin distinctive for being made entirely from iron. Şeytankulu's looked too large to throw. Rather, he seemed to wield it as a short spear, and it notably had a curved, barbed tip for both slashing and stabbing.

The man to Şeytankulu's side was an elderly man who looked to be in his mid sixties, with tanned skin and a thick, gunmetal gray beard. He only wore a vest with a number of pockets over a simple work shirt, and he also wore work trousers and boots, or rather, a work boot. The most distinctive thing about his clothing was a turban on his head. It was blood red and sky blue, like Şeytankulu's cloth wrapping, and a golden Mark of Naga with gears at the top and bottom surrounded by a laurel wreath of wheat was emblazoned on the left side of the turban. Though his clothing wasn't particularly notable, that wasn't to say there wasn't anything about the man's appearance that immediately caught the eye. The elderly man was missing his right leg at the knee, and a wooden prosthetic now supported his weight in its absence.

In front of the other two men, implying a kind of seniority, was a rather thuggish looking man in his mid thirties. He wore the standard leather armor of a mercenary, with metal plating on his arms and legs and a large shield on his arm. In that way, he was reminiscent of Severa, Inigo, and Soleil. The man had piercing brown eyes, so light in color that they were almost amber, and a rugged looking beard similar to Chrom's own, though it was more neatly trimmed. Notably, almost disturbingly, the man's hair was a very light pink. The same hair color that Soleil and Olivia had. Chrom supposed there was no reason why a male couldn't inherit that hair color, but it was dissonant with his otherwise intimidating appearance. Beyond that, the man had a big, stupid grin plastered on his face, and it never deviated. The man just stared right into Chrom's eyes and smiled. Chrom eventually tried to turn away, but the man stepped forward and began to speak to him. "Well, well. So you're finally here, Chrom. Archangel has been waiting a very long time for this." The man looked him up and down, and his smile became more reserved. "So have I."

"W-Who are you?"

Pheros tried to step forward and speak, but the man cut her off. "Chrom these are-"

"We can introduce ourselves, Pheros." He stepped forward and shoved Pheros backward. Like a playground bully might have. "Now why don't you let us talk to our guest."

"Hey!" Chrom snapped.

The man noticed the worry Chrom had for Pheros, and his smile faded. "I'd be more worried about yourself." The man held his feet apart and stuck his finger towards Chrom. "My name is Salzman. I'm the Chief of Security in Belfire. To my right is Şeytankulu, the Captain of Archangel's Guard. To my left is Khomeini, our enhanced interrogation specialist."

Khomeini cracked his knuckles. Despite his age, Chrom noticed he was rather muscular under his clothing. "It took far too long to find you, Chrom. Archangel had to leave Belfire, and she's not happy about that. We're here to punish the ones responsible."

"Yes. The ones responsible." Salzman looked like he was about to attack Chrom as he stepped forward, but he suddenly darted to the side and jabbed Keith in the neck. The Justicar fell to his knees, barely able to speak.

"Agh?!" He choked. His surprise could be heard clearly, but Salzman was relentless. He tore Keith's butterfly mask from his face and held the sharp edge of the mask to his groin. Keith shook with fury, but he was also visibly afraid of Salzman pressing said mask into his unmentionables.

"Pathetic, Keith. Absolutely pathetic. How many times did Chrom get away from you!"

"How dare you?! I am the Justicar!"

"You're a momma's boy. Besides, Keith, I would have thought you'd learned by now not to talk to us like that when your mommy isn't around to protect you." Salzman rapidly punched Keith three times in the face, leaving him a bloodied mess, then cut him in the cheek with his much beloved mask for good measure. Chrom had always thought Keith to be the second in command of the Arch Surg. These officers really were important if they could treat him like this without fear of repercussion, and more notably, if Keith himself didn't dare to do anything about it. As Salzman started walking away from Keith, Şeytankulu darted behind Pheros and seized her in a headlock. To Chrom's horror, Khomeini and Salzman then proceed to encircle her. Pheros looked to Cervantes for help, but he just raised his arms and slowly backed away. "Of course, the failure isn't entirely Keith's.

"What is this meaning of this?!" Pheros spat. Even in the face of Şeytankulu's bullying she tried to maintain her dignity, but he tightened his grip around her neck with every word.

"Keith is insane, Pheros, but you don't have that excuse. Time and time again Chrom slipped through your fingers. You think yourself a leader of the Arch Surg, but you only bring Archangel failure."

Pheros was struggling to breathe now, but still she spoke. "I brought Chrom here!"

"He came here on his own! He's not restrained! He could leave whenever he wants! He wandered here on his own, and now you dare to take credit. All you ever bring Archangel is failure."

"I-" Şeytankulu pressed against Pheros' neck until she couldn't speak anymore. The sight infuriated Chrom, and it certainly told him more than enough about what these men were like. Pheros had always been dedicated to the Arch Surg, and she always carried herself with intelligence and dignity, and yet these men silenced her by the inequity of their youth, strength, and size. It was nothing short of barbaric.

"I'm so sick of you Valmese. You think that because you served Walhart you lead the Arch Surg. You're the archetypal old world regime military officer. You threaten. You command. You complain. But you don't actually _do_ anything. Archangel deserves better."

Pheros' dignity gave way to her desire to breathe, and she began to instinctively kick at Şeytankulu while trying to squirm out of his grasp, but nothing she did moved the much heavier man. "I… brought… Chrom."

"Such arrogance. You still can't admit when you've failed. Maybe you need to be humbled." Salzman's smile morphed into a sinister grin as he raised his right hand. To Chrom's shock, his index finger began to glow until it was searing hot, like the end of a brand. He turned to Ophelia, wondering if she had any idea what was happening, but she was as stunned as he was. In fact, she almost looked amazed. Salzman slowly brought his finger to Pheros' cheek, and the fear that took her only made him more excited. "Remember this pain the next time you want to talk back to us."

Salzman brought his finger to Pheros' cheek very slowly, delighting in her growing panic. Chrom couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care how outmatched he was. "STOP!" Salzman paused. He turned to Chrom as if he were surprised, but his grin quickly returned. "Please! D-Don't hurt her! She hasn't done anything to you!"

Salzman extinguished his finger, which wasn't visibly injured at all. With a nod of his head, Şeytankulu tossed Pheros to the ground, and the three moved to harass Chrom instead. Cervantes walked over to help Pheros to her feet, but she angrily slapped his hand away as she got up, clutching her neck. The two Valmese officers then made sure to stay clear of Salzman and his officers. Chrom looked to Ophelia as the three approached, but she just nodded back, refusing to show any sign of fear. Chrom nodded to her, and the two stood their ground as the men encircled them. Şeytankulu prowled behind the two while Salzman got within a meter of Chrom. The Exalt tried to stare down the Chief of Security, but Salzman didn't look at him like he did Keith and Pheros. Salzman seemed to look longingly at him, as if he were seeing an old friend for the first time in years. "You care about her, don't you? You always did have that trusting nature. You always did need to help people."

"Don't speak like you know me."

"Oh but I do, sweetie." Salzman lovingly caressed Chrom's cheek, which caught him by surprise. "You don't know it yet, but we're going to be great friends."

Chrom angrily slapped Salzman's hand away, but that only made him smile wider. "Look, I'm here. I've been told Archangel knows me. I'm told she wants to see me."

"And do you know who she is?"

"No."

"So she managed to keep her secret! Ha! Oh she'll love this! But first…" Salzman stepped to the side, and Chrom looked behind where he'd been just in time for Khomeini to strike him in the stomach. Chrom fell to his knees, and Şeytankulu then grabbed his shoulders and forced him to his back. Ophelia tried to spring forward and help him, but Salzman quickly drew a sword and brought the blade to her neck. Salzman's weapon was unlike anything Chrom and Ophelia had ever seen. The crossguard depicted a skull with four horns coming out of it towards the blade. The blade had six barbs running along it, and it actually glowed an icy blue. "Ah! Stay back! I wouldn't want to have to cut that pretty face."

Khomeini stepped forward and placed his prosthetic to Chrom's crotch, causing him to cry out in pain. Khomeini seemed to revel in it. "Aw, am I not as gentle with it as Maribelle was? Or, did you prefer the palace concubines?"

"How dare you-AAARGH!" Khomeini pressed down harder.

"The right amount of stimulus, to the right place, for the right amount of time. Understand that, and you can break anyone."

"What do you want?!"

"Why did you come here? The Arch Surg has been trying to bring you in by force, but you just decide to mosey on over on your own?" Khomeini pressed down even harder, and Chrom let out a rather undignified noise. "Is this a trick? Are you trying to lure Archangel into a trap? Are you working for the Pegasus Raiders? The Coalition? The Ouroboros?"

"AAAARRGH!"

Salzman looked Chrom in the eye. "I don't think he's up to anything, Khomeini. Robin was the smart one. His job was to look pretty."

"I don't make a habit of underestimating people. Remember the report Keith filled out about what happened at Veslil? He had Ophelia use a body switching ritual so he could fight after his knee was broken. He might not be particularly bright in a cognitive sense, but he's still a tricky SOB. I'm not letting him get past me. If you're planning something, we'll know about it."

Chrom's body was shaking. He was crying involuntarily, and his voice was higher pitched than normal, but still he forced himself to speak. "I… just… want… to… see… her!"

"Let him go, Khomeini, before you rupture something and leak his exalted fluids everywhere."

The Arch Surg officer let go of Chrom's groin. Chrom easily could have lied there and moaned for the next ten minutes, but he forced himself to stand up straight for Ophelia's sake. He shot Salzman a death glare as he lowered his sword from her neck, but still he just smiled in response. "I… I just want to meet your leader."

"Haven't you figured it out, Chrom? You're dealing with the important people now. We virtually never leave Belfire, but some things are just that important. This is important to her too."

"So she's coming here?!"

A black shadow flew over Chrom. "See for yourself." Chrom craned his neck to see what flew overhead, and he could hear the Arch Surg soldiers by him panic. The Immortals showed no response, but Mustafa's forces all turned their eyes skyward.

"She's here!" A man yelled.

"Impossible. S-She never leaves the capital!" A second man cried.

"No, no! What have we done?!" A woman screamed as she threw her arquebus to the ground. Mustafa, still surrounded by Immortals, forced his way forward and tried to calm his soldiers, but even he was worried. All of this made Chrom look around more furiously, but he still couldn't see whatever had been flying through the air. He could, however, hear the almost deafening cry of an eagle. As he heard something crash down behind him, Chrom expected to find a wyvern rider, but the noise actually came from the largest bird he'd ever seen in his life.

The bird responsible for the screech was a massive eagle with golden brown feathers, though striped black and white feathers adorned the wings. The raptor weighed fifteen kilograms, and its wingspan was almost three meters. The eagle screeched again as it unfurled its wings, and Chrom reflexively took a step back. Salzman just laughed at him. "Chrom, this is Sumia. She goes where Archangel goes."

"The eagle is named Sumia?! Why, WHY is she named that?!"

"Why don't you ask Archangel."

As massive as Sumia was, the eagle wasn't large enough to have created the shadow. Looking up, Chrom could see a massive winged _thing_ coming towards him. It was only after the figure landed on the ground that Chrom could see it was a woman with the severed wings of a Pegasus somehow attached to her back. The woman's body was covered entirely by heavy clothing that kept her warm at high altitudes, and her shoulders, arms, and legs additionally had steel plating covering them. The woman had landed in such a way that she was kneeling when she hit the ground, her wings positioned in front of her. As she stood, she violently brought her wings back, throwing forward a maelstrom of dust and sand. Though this debris briefly blocked Chrom's view of the woman, glowing purple beady eyes could still be seen, staring at him. As it cleared, Chrom could see that the woman wore a helmet with solid black goggles; the woman's glowing eyes shining through them. Notably, the woman's left arm was missing, having been severed at the elbow.

"What an entrance!" Ophelia exclaimed, both wonder and fear in her voice. "Are those wings?! Who is this woman?!"

The woman detached herself from the harness that kept the wings attached to her body, but her massive pinions didn't fall to the ground. Instead they actually hovered in place, and two of the Immortals immediately moved to push them away. She slowly walked forward to meet Chrom, but she didn't immediately acknowledge him. Her attention was instead drawn to Keith, who hung his head and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Mother."

Archangel gently rubbed her adopted son's face. Her voice was high pitched, yet reserved and threatening. "Oh, sweetie. Your face is bloodied. Did Chrom do this to you?"

"No. It was Salzman!" Keith pointed to the officer, but he just smiled back. Archangel immediately seemed to lose interest.

"Well you shouldn't have made him mad." Archangel slapped her son. It wasn't hard enough to hurt him, but it did force his head to the side. "Incompetent. Keith, when I give you a task, I expect it to get done. How many times did Chrom get away from you? You may be big and tall, but you're still just a boy. Maybe I give you too much responsibility."

"Mom! Not in front of the other officers!"

Archangel ruffled her son's hair in a manner that suggested both affection and frustration, then turned to face Mustafa. The Immortals had kept him him pacified by pointing their firearms at him, but they didn't relieve him of his axe. As Archangel began to walk towards him, the Immortals backed away, and Mustafa began to realize what was coming. "Mustafa, I know what happened here. You've turned against our righteous cause and lead these soldiers astray, but I admit the circumstances were extreme. I see now that the experiment with Henry's curse has failed. Come back to us, brother, and we can ensure these atrocities never happen again."

"How dare you?!" He drew his axe and pointed it towards Archangel. "Henry has done something horrible with that curse, but I know him. He just didn't know better. It wouldn't have happened without your order! Thirty two years ago, I was on the wrong side. I knew Gangrel was insane, but I insisted on serving my country. I thought it was the honorable thing to do." Mustafa looked to Chrom and nodded. "I see now how mad that reasoning was. Patriotism is a method of control used by those in power. It asks people to use their individuality to mindlessly serve the interests of the authority. It places value on arbitrary land and inanimate symbols over human life. I will never delude myself into being part of any army like that again. Perhaps your cause is just, Archangel, but that does not mean you should head it."

Şeytankulu drew his weapon, but Archangel simply raised her arm to halt him. "Very well. If that's how you want it to be."

Having made his choice, Mustafa sprang forward with his axe drawn, but he didn't make it more than a meter before Archangel unleashed a blast of dark magic. The attack cracked and arced through the air like a bolt of lighting, and it caused violent spasms and convulsions in Mustafa when it hit him. The Plegian general fell to his knees screaming and vomiting, and he barely managed to brace himself on his axe for a few seconds before collapsing entirely. A few moments of dead silence passed. Many of Mustafa's soldiers looked on in horror, but nobody moved to help him.

"Gods!" Ophelia cried as she brought her hands to her mouth. Archangel seemed to hear her, and she turned and brought her creepy, glowing purple eyes to Chrom. The moment he'd been waiting for. Chrom straightened himself as Archangel approached.

"Chrom. It's really you. Do you… know who I am?"

"You're the leader of the Archanean Liberation Front, but no. I don't know who you really are, but I've been told you know me."

"Yes. I've been hearing about you since I was a girl. I was so excited to finally meet you. Now you're meeting me. Seeing what I've done. It's like a twisted inversion of when you and Robin found me thirty years ago. Now you're the misguided one, and I'm the leader of an army. I remember fighting with you and my father. Enjoying with you. Suffering with you. Much had we seen and known. Cities of men and manners, climates, councils, governments. I am a part of all that I have met, thanks to you. I was happy, but then you took everything from me." Archangel began to struggle with her helmet. "I may not seem like the teenaged girl you knew back then, but I am."

Archangel removed her helmet, letting it fall to the ground, and Chrom became unable to do anything but whisper a single word. "Cynthia."

Cynthia gave a rather unsettling smile. As much as Chrom couldn't believe it, there was no doubt that this was the Cynthia he had known in the Shepherds. Cynthia was in her late forties now, and she showed some telltale signs of aging, but time had been far less forceful with her than it had been with Chrom. She had her mother's faded brown hair, which she still kept in two pigtails. Some gray hairs could be seen, but they blended in well with her natural hair color. A few wrinkles now lined her face, but they didn't detract from her soft features. Cynthia still looked girlish. Innocent.

However, Chrom was also reminded of just how much things had changed. Disturbingly, Cynthia's glowing eyes hadn't been caused by her strange mask. They actually glowed with a bright purple light, but within a few seconds this light faded to reveal her normal brown eyes. There was a determination in her stare that had never been there before. Her gaze carried a power and weight that seemed unnatural on such a traditionally feminine figure. There was a burning intensity to Cynthia's stare, and Chrom felt a sense of dread growing until he finally averted his gaze. As his eyes fell to Şeytankulu, Chrom realized just how strange it was that he'd rather look at Cynthia's large, armored, intimidating male subordinates than her, but that was genuinely how he felt. He couldn't meet the ferocity of Cynthia's gaze. He just couldn't. Cynthia herself seemed to revel in having stared him down, and her smile twisted into a kind of silent snarl before she spoke. To Chrom's dismay, Cynthia's helmet wasn't making her voice more powerful. Like her eyes, it really had changed on its own. Though still high pitched and girlish, Cynthia's voice now carried very easily, and it seemed to command respect from anyone that heard it. It was hard to explain, but Chrom felt like Cynthia could drown him out even if he yelled.

"Yes. It's been a long time hasn't it, Chrom? I haven't seen you since, well-" Cynthia held up her left arm. "Since you did this to me." Cynthia laughed, though it was a low, threatening laugh. It certainly didn't improve the mood of the situation. "The look on your face! I see my secret was kept."

Chrom took a few steps forward, willing himself to look at Cynthia again. "I… I can't believe it. Y-You. You… of all people. You did this." Chrom's voice was almost monotone as he struggled to process his shock. Even looking right at Cynthia, it still didn't feel real to him. "You did this?! All of this?! This entire army was created by you?!" Chrom gestured to Keith, Pheros, Cervantes, and Cynthia's subordinates in disbelief. "Y-You adopted Keith?! You're the one Walhart's officers follow?! You lead all these men?! This entire army?! This entire war with the Grimleal?! You _of all people_ are behind it?! Cynthia… how is that possible?!"

"I understand your disbelief. After all, how could the scatterbrained, ditzy Pegasus Knight accomplish all of this? I was just a joke back then, Chrom. I wanted so badly to be a hero, but I didn't inspire anyone. I just amused them. I was comedic relief!" Cynthia looked over the fort. She looked to her soldiers and the officers that now followed her, and she seemed to take pride in all of it. "But I am responsible for all of this, Chrom. I was able to forge this army because I grew up. When I was a child, I was girlish. I hated violence, but I was forced to fight to survive in my timeline. Beyond that, I wanted to fight. I wanted to be a hero, like my mother and father. I thought I'd grown up then, but I see now I was still just a child. Even when I was with you. My girlhood was lost with my left arm." Cynthia looked back to Chrom. "I loved my mother. She gave me her courage and compassion… but I didn't benefit from her mind. Now, my father on the other hand…"

"Robin." Chrom said solemnly as he remembered his old friend.

"Yes. As a teenager I followed my mother, but now I've dedicated myself to being like him. He passed down his talent for magic to me. Though it was difficult, I taught myself to harness it. And it wasn't just magic he gave me. I have his strategic mind too. I just had to learn. I just had to focus. I had to stop wasting time on poses, and names, and entrances, and other childish things. I had to focus on what it really means to be a hero. I had to focus on saving the world from the Grimleal. What my parents dedicated their lives to. What Lucina dedicated her life to. That is how I was able to create this army." Cynthia stepped forward, and she and Chrom were just a meter apart now. "I may not be like the girl you knew, but I still want the same thing."

"But… Cynthia…" Chrom looked around. There was nothing inspiring about the Arch Surg forces he saw here. There was nothing inspiring about Keith. About Şeytankulu, or Khomeini, or Salzman. About the soldiers Henry had brainwashed into serving. Chrom looked to Mustafa and remembered how Cynthia had attacked him. He looked to the fort itself and remembered what the Arch Surg had done to Tiki. How he had to fight his way out. None of this was inspiring. It was threatening. Horrifying. "The Arch Surg is responsible for so much violence. So much death! How could, how could _you_ be responsible for this! This isn't what Sumia and Robin would have wanted! I mean, you had the severed wings of a Pegasus on your back through some horrible application of dark magic. How could Sumia be okay with that?! Why have you… I don't… why did you… WHY?! Was it power?!"

Cynthia just laughed again. Her voice was calm and collected, and she grinned from ear to ear as she spoke. She wanted Chrom to ask her that. "It's not power I want, Chrom. Not for its own sake. Want I want is to save the world! To free the human race from the Grimleal! To be a hero! If you look at history, you'll find that whenever humanity was threatened by a terrible evil, a great hero rose to stop it! These heroes didn't just fight, they built something. They changed the world for the better. Nobody lives forever, Chrom. No matter who you are, or how important you think your life is, death comes for everybody. It is the great equalizer. Life's not about you. It's not about making a name for yourself. It's about leaving a mark on history. It's about inspiring other people. It's about giving something to the future. Life is but a grace period to change the world. To do something that will be remembered! You're only a hero if other people look up to you! You're only a hero if you've saved something! If you've changed something!" Cynthia paced back and forth as she continued. "The purpose of life is to pass on the best of your bloodline to the next generation. Life is selfish. We spend our whole lives taking and taking. The only time we ever give something is when we have children. All living things die, but they leave their mark on history when they have children. Countless living things that have long since gone still live on through their bloodlines! When you have a child, you give something to the future, and you ensure that your existence mattered. The Shepherds had children, even as they fought, and Lucina, and I, and our companions couldn't have gone back in time to fight Grima if they hadn't. The purpose of life is to give new life the chance to exist, and to ensure a better world for future generations. Of course, this isn't just having kids. After all, almost all living things will reproduce. Having children isn't anything special. Heroes go above and beyond. Chrom, the Falchion has an inscription on it. Do you know what it says? Do you know what your own sword says?"

Chrom did know. He didn't understand the strange writing on the Falchion, but his family had told him what it meant. "When all else is lost the future still remains."

"Lucina understood what I'm saying. She devoted her life to fighting, just fighting, so that she could give her other self the chance for a better life. So she could give the rest of humanity a chance! Back then we thought you were a hero, Chrom. That you could save the world!" Cynthia stuck her finger at him. "But you were a false idol! You lead us astray! Heroes build something. Tell me, what have you built? You've killed, and destroyed, but what have you _built_?"

Ophelia had been silent, not understanding the relationship Chrom and Cynthia had, but she couldn't take Cynthia's criticisms of her great uncle anymore. "The Shepherds! He built the Shepherds!"

"And tell me, daughter of my old friend, what fate befell the Shepherds?"

"They… they-"

"He broke us."

Chrom slowly turned to Ophelia and shook his head. "Ophelia. Please. I want to hear what she has to say."

"I see now that you weren't the hero, Chrom! We were! That is why I survived! Good always triumphs after all. I survived everything that happened so that I could build this! You see, heroes don't just fight! Heroes don't preserve a status quo! They make a mark on history, and the world is changed for their fight against evil! Anyone can fight. Anyone can kill. Heroes save society, and they change society! Anri created the Kingdom of Altea! Marth and Caeda created the United Kingdom of Archanea! Alm and Celica created the One Kingdom of Valentia! The First Exalt created the Halidom of Ylisse! Now I too have built something! I too have given something to the future! A revolution that will save humanity from this rotting cancer that now calls itself our government. I have created this!" As Cynthia spoke, Sumia swooped down and landed on her shoulders. The force of the landing caused Cynthia to stumble forward, but her armor protected her from the eagle's talons, and she quickly straightened herself. As if on cue, the eagle extended her wings as Cynthia struck a dramatic pose. " ** _THE ARCHANEAN LIBERATION FRONT_**!" As Cynthia finished speaking, Sumia accentuated her speech with a screech. It was nothing short of surreal. Chrom could see that deep down, Cynthia hadn't lost her love for theatrics, but there was nothing funny about it this time.

The soldiers Cynthia had come with cheered, but Chrom still continued to step forward. "Cynthia… the Arch Surg has committed atrocities, and they were done in your name! In the name of who you call yourself now! Cities oppressed! Gods sold into slavery! Violence! Death! How can you call this heroism?! If Robin and Sumia could see you now-"

Cynthia's face twisted with anger at the mention of them, and Sumia jumped off of her shoulders as she stepped even closer to Chrom. "And why can't they see me now?! Huh?! Why can't they see me?! How dare you even speak their names! Tell me, Chrom, where is Henry? He's supposed to be stationed at this fort."

Pheros stepped forward. "Henry was-"

Cynthia raised her arm, and Pheros almost immediately silenced herself. "I want to hear it from him!"

"He…" Chrom had to look at his own feet. "He's gone."

"And Aunt Cordelia? My mother's best friend? My scouts tell me she was with you at Nowi Falls. Tell me. What happened to her?"

Chrom's voice began to crack. "She's gone too."

"Just two more you've failed. They survived for thirty years, but they die as soon as they see you again."

"I… I-"

"How dare you criticize me! Lucina, and I, and all the others trusted you! We believed in you! We really thought you could save the world, but you took everything from us! I lost my parents twice because of you! I lost my companions, who had fought by my side since childhood, because of you! You ruined everything, and then what did you do?! Huh?! What did you do?! You turned and hid from the world for thirty years, and now that I'm trying to fix what you did, _YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO LECTURE ME ABOUT_ **_DEATH_**?!"

"Cynthia, I… I-" Chrom was breaking down completely at this point, and he fell to his knees as tears fell down his cheeks. A now very familiar feeling of guilt enveloped him, but this was far worse than anything he'd felt before. None of the Shepherds he'd reunited with had been this harsh. Cynthia was relentless, and Chrom knew she wasn't really wrong about anything she said.

"Pathetic excuse for a man! Lucina, Naga rest her soul, was _blinded_ to your weakness. What do you have to say for yourself?!"

"I-"

"You're sorry?! Is that what you were going to say?!"

Chrom finally broke, and he could do nothing but cry for about a minute. A bitter silence filled the fort. Cynthia just stared down at Chrom. Ophelia looked on in horror. She desperately wanted to stand up to Cynthia, to make her great uncle feel better, but she knew there was nothing she could say to cheer him up. This was far too personal for him. The Arch Surg officers had varying expressions. Şeytankulu and Khomeini were entirely apathetic, and Cervantes just stared. Salzman actually seemed to worry about Chrom, but he didn't do anything. The only one to truly feel anything for him was Pheros, and she eventually mustered the nerve to approach Cynthia. "Archangel… is this really necessary? He's in a very fragile place right now. We… should be helping him."

Cynthia took very deep breaths to calm herself, and she stepped forward and placed her hand on Chrom's shoulder. She kept it there as his sobbing slowly died down, and she knelt down so that the two were at eye level. When Chrom finally brought his gaze back to hers, she did her best to show that her anger had left her. "Come on, Chrom. Get up. I don't want to see you like this."

"Cynthia. Oh gods. I know this means nothing to you, but _I am so sorry_. You're right about me."

Ophelia became alarmed. "Chrom!"

"No. She is right. I… I have no right to criticize you for fighting. For trying to help the world. Not after what I did."

"But that wasn't your fault!"

Chrom ignored Ophelia, and Cynthia paid her no mind. She brought her head closer to Chrom's, almost to the point of whispering into his ear. Her voice became very calm and gentle, and her again eyes began to glow a faint purple. "I don't hate you."

"It's alright. I deserve it."

"But I don't. We're not so different now. We are both shaped by those we have lost. In that way, so we are the same. We're both getting old. Our youth ended long ago. We are not the young warriors trying to find a light in the darkness anymore. This is when we dedicate our lives to leaving something for future generations, and you're far too old to be conflicted like this. You need to find what you stand for."

Chrom found that Cynthia's words were oddly soothing, and he felt closer to her as she spoke. As he finally allowed her to reach him, his eyes began to glow a faint purple too. Cynthia smiled, as if she knew something had happened. "And you can help me?"

"Yes. We can fight together, Chrom. We can fight the Grimleal together!"

Ophelia looked nervously between the two. "What are you doing to him?!" Again Chrom ignored her, and Cynthia continued.

"Old age has weakened us, but this is not the end of our lives. Tis not too late to seek a newer world. We can go beyond the bounds of human thought. We can still do something heroic and honorable before death takes us. Though we are not as strong as we were in youth, we are strong in will. We are sustained by our resolve to give something to the future. You can still fight for Ophelia, Chrom. For Soleil. For Caeldori."

Ophelia's eyes widened. "How do you even know about them?!" Still Chrom ignored her, lost in a trance, and still Cynthia continued.

"We still have our heroic hearts. Though we are made weak through time and fate, we are made strong through our desire to change the world for those yet to be born. For a better future, we are sustained by our desire to push onwards relentlessly: to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." Cynthia's eyes now glowed as intensely as before, but it didn't seem to bother Chrom. In fact, he didn't seem to notice at all. Cynthia slowly moved her hand from Chrom's shoulder until she was gently caressing his cheek. When her lips curled into a warm smile, Chrom felt compelled to do the same. "Will you stand by my side now as we fight to free humanity from the Grimleal? Will you atone for for your sins?"

"I… I will."

Cynthia stood up, and her eyes returned to normal. She extended her hand, and Chrom took it. "Then welcome to our revolution, brother." Chrom suddenly found that his sense of calm had disappeared, but he still felt closer to Cynthia. Felt that she'd somehow helped him with internal conflict he couldn't overcome on his own. What he experienced now didn't feel natural, and yet it did. Chrom couldn't wrap his head around it, but he certainly felt better than he did a few minutes prior. He slowly brought himself back to his feet, and he watched as Cynthia turned to face her soldiers. "Brothers and sisters of the Archanean Liberation Front! There has been too much bloodshed here today. I know some of you have many grievances. I know some of you were wronged by the dark mage Henry. I know some of you took up arms against us."

Ophelia scowled and turned to Chrom. She elbowed him before speaking, making sure he couldn't ignore her. "She's trying to blame everything on Henry! He was probably doing it on her orders!"

Chrom didn't share Ophelia's anger. He just continued to stare aimlessly at Cynthia. "Her voice. Something about her voice."

"What?! Chrom, listen to me! You can't agree with her! I don't know what it's like for you to see a Shepherd again, but remember what they did to Tiki!"

Chrom jerked in place, as if he'd been snapped back to reality. "I...do. But… Cynthia wouldn't… would she?" He looked back to her as she continued to speak to her soldiers. "Don't you see, Ophelia. I have to go with her. I have to know why she's like this now, and maybe I can help her. Maybe… she can help me."

"Chrom… just… don't let her manipulate you."

"The Cynthia I knew wouldn't do that. She couldn't do that."

"I don't think you know her anymore."

Cynthia continued to speak, and the soldiers seemed to become more entranced with every word. "Free will is the heart of what makes us human. Liberty, opportunity, civil rights, these are the things that the Grimleal would try to take from us. We can stand together to stop that, but I cannot make you see things my way. Those of you who wish to remain enemies of our revolution, stay where you are. However, for those of you who wish to help us liberate all humanity from the tyranny of this god of death, know that all is forgiven. We are all humans, and so we are all united in humanity's struggle. For those of you who have fought with me, and wrought with me, and thought with me, some work of noble note may yet be done." One by one, the soldiers began to step forward. Though some hesitated, and some only moved when the soldiers by them did, every single soldier ultimately chose to rejoin the Arch Surg. Cynthia reached out her arms and nodded, then turned and walked over to Mustafa. The veteran soldier was still on the ground, badly injured by Cynthia's attack, and he could only bring his head up to look as Cynthia stood over him. She struck a valiant pose, and as she did, Şeytankulu and Khomeini stepped by her side. She offered her hand to Mustafa, and her officers readied their weapons to show what would happen if he refused it. "And what of you, Mustafa? I know you disagree with out methods, but surely you see that the fight against the Grimleal is more important than any one person's protests. Your men have sided with me. Now, will you be an honorable general and stand with them? Will you live for something? Will you continue to try and atone for serving the mad king all those years ago?"

Mustafa sighed and relented. Cynthia helped him to his feet, and Khomeini handed him an elixir. The former Pegasus Knight watched with a devious smile as he drank it, showing Mustafa full well that he only lived because she allowed it. When he finished, and as his injuries healed, Mustafa slowly knelt in front of Cynthia and hung his head. "I… pledge my fealty to you once more, Archangel. I apologize for my betrayal."

Cynthia chuckled, and she placed her hand on the much older man's shoulder as she had done to Chrom and shook him in an almost loving manner. The warmth Cynthia displayed to her followers was horribly dissonant from how threatening her officers were. Even as she offered her hand in reconciliation, her subordinates made it abundantly clear what would happen if you refused it. As Chrom looked over to Keith, and as he saw the normally very menacing yet well spoken man hang his head in submission around his mother, he started to realize why he'd become the man he was. Keith eventually noticed Chrom staring at him, and his youthful face twisted into that all too familiar look of fury as Cynthia walked over to him. "We're leaving, Keith. Now do something useful for once. Take Chrom and Ophelia to our carriages, and do not lay so much as a finger on them. Got it?"

"Yes, mother."

"Good. Mom loves you." Cynthia gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving to talk privately with her men. Keith looked embarrassed for a second, but his default look of barely contained rage had graced him once more by the time he reached Chrom and Ophelia. With Cynthia gone, he was free to put on his butterfly mask, and he and Chrom stared each other down.

"Chrom."

The emotions Chrom felt around Cynthia were very complex now, but the hatred that consumed him whenever he spoke to Keith was simple enough. "Keith. You got what you wanted. I'm meeting Archangel."

"I was supposed to bring you to her. You made me look bad in front of my mom!" Keith caught himself. His fury faded, but that made him no less threatening. No less unhinged. "But it matters not. The Arch Surg is as a deluge that will wash away the filth of this world, and I will _mete_ and _dole_ punishment unto a _cruel_ and _savage_ **_race_**."

Keith drew his estoc, customized to look like the Falchion, and motioned towards the line of carriages Archangel's forces had used to come to the fort before walking away. As Chrom watched him leave, he saw two people staring at him from the corner of his eye, and he turned to find Robin and Sumia. The two stood together, looks of horror on their faces. Sumia buried her head in her husband's shoulder, as if she couldn't look at Cynthia anymore. "Oh, Robin. What's become of our little girl?!"

"I don't know." Robin turned to Chrom. "What did you do to her?!"

"Wait! No! I-I'm sorry!" Chrom reached towards the two, but they simply faded away. "I'm sorry!"

Chrom looked back to Cynthia. She was flanked by Şeytankulu, Khomeini, and Keith, and all of her men glared at Chrom. Cynthia herself just smiled. "Come, Chrom. We've much to discuss."

Ophelia turned to see Chrom walking towards her. She was about to urge him to be careful, but she felt someone staring at her, and she glanced back to see Salzman. He didn't say anything to Ophelia. He just stared. Disturbed, Ophelia hurried after Chrom.

* * *

(Well there we go. Though the Grimleal regime is still at the zenith of its power, and though Chrom's a ways away from facing Gangrel and Aversa, with this chapter, the big 5-0, Chrom has finally faced the leadership of the Archanean Liberation Front directly. I'll be taking a break from this story for awhile, partially because of school, and partially because my laptop and iPad are damaged and it's very frustrating to type this on a phone.

Please feel to let me know how you think of the story so far. Questions? Comments? Concerns? I greatly appreciate feedback :)

When this story picks up again, we'll see what Soleil and Caeldori have been up to before returning to Chrom and Ophelia's story.)


	51. The Recap - Year 1

(Considering how long this story has become, I thought it'd be useful to have a quick recap chapter to help you keep track of everything that's happened. To clarify, the name of this chapter refers to the fact that all of these chapters were posted in 2017. It's been about three months give or take since the start of the story in universe.)

 **Act 1: The Old Men**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"She's like you, Chrom… very much like you."

For twenty years a reclusive man calling himself Mercer has lived as a scavenger in a small town in western Ylisse. Besides that, the only time he ever leaves his house is to drink at the local bar run by Donald, Mercer's only real friend. Time and time again Tiki, the Voice of Naga, has visited Mercer and asked for his aid in resisting the Grimleal and its tricenarian regime, but he angrily refuses her each time.

While drinking in the bar one quiet day, Mercer witnesses a young man harass a woman until he is rejected. To his chagrin, the man introduces himself as Conrad and speaks to Mercer out of loneliness. The conversation ends as several Grimleal soldiers lead by Courtney, the local landlord, storm into the bar. Conrad's young daughter unintentionally leads them right to him, and Courtney tortures Conrad for failing to pay rent. He then threatens the entire town before leaving. Though Mercer helps Conrad to his feet, he also threatens him for putting his daughter's life at risk by not paying rent.

Leaving the bar, Mercer encounters Tiki yet again. Though he refuses to have anything to do with her, he is shocked when Tiki introduces a young woman with the Brand of the Exalt.

Meanwhile, in the Grimleal's official capital of Ylisstol, the Emperor's attendant enters the royal palace and tells Emperor Gangrel that High Inquisitor Aversa requests use of his Chief Enforcer for a training exercise. Though Gangrel casually agrees, the attendant is disturbed by the outfit he is wearing and tries to subtlety criticize it. Ignoring it, Gangrel admires his "Shepherd Slayer" outfit, formed from trophies taken off the slain Shepherds, and descends into unhinged laughing until the attendant leaves.

Author's Notes - The names of Conrad and Courtney come from a Fire Emblem fic I wrote when I first joined the site. The very first fanfic I ever wrote in fact. The similarities end with the names, as in my story Courtney was a female deuteragonist and Conrad was not a tool.

 **Chapter 2**

"Get me a sword."

Though Mercer storms back to his home and refuses to interact with Tiki and the young woman, the young mage refuses to give up and stays by his door for the rest of the day, and Mercer finally relents after she helps him stop a burglary. The next morning, the young woman introduces herself as Ophelia Dusk and reveals that she is the daughter of Owain. Though Mercer refuses to help train her or help her fight against the Grimleal, Ophelia convinces him to help her save fellow third generation Shepherd Soleil, who was captured by the Grimleal before Ophelia and Tiki reached the town. Ophelia then uses Minerva, Cherche's wyvern, to fly them there.

Though Mercer refuses to use a sword anymore, Ophelia is able to defeat the Grimleal soldiers holding Soleil captive with Minerva, and the two friends reunite. The group makes camp in the nearby forest, and the young women proceed to bombard Mercer with questions about the Shepherds. They also inform Mercer about a third generation Shepherd named Caeldori. Confused, as Severa never gave birth before the Shepherds fell, Mercer asks how Caeldori could have been born. Realizing what it meant, the girls suggest that Severa survived and claim that other Shepherds could be alive as well. Mercer is offended at the claim, and he leaves the girls and walks all the way back to town.

Upon arriving, Mercer sees the stripped and mutilated corpses of Conrad and his daughter lying in the town square, and is informed by Donald that Courtney refuses to allow a funeral. Infuriated, Mercer breaks his vow and requests the chapter quote of Ophelia, who'd arrived in the town before he did.

Author's Notes - Mercer's vow to never pick up a sword again was inspired by Logan's vow to never pop his claws again in Mark Miller's _Old Man Logan_. Of course, Mercer's vow doesn't last nearly as long.

 **Chapter 3**

"I will never forget that it is the evil done by men and women that has destroyed the world the most."

Driven to a blind rage by Courtney's atrocities, Mercer spends the next several days hunting down and killing the landlord's lieutenants and agents before attacking Courtney himself. Elated at the chance to fight him, as a surviving agent had told him Mercer's true identity, Courtney revealed that he knew Tiki had been repeatedly visiting his territory for the past twenty years. Realizing that it was because she came to see Chrom, Courtney threatened to use Soleil and Ophelia to lure out and capture Tiki so that he could deliver her to Gangrel and be a hero of the Grimleal. Infuriated, Chrom then engages in a bitter, bloody battle.

Seemingly killing Courtney, Mercer travels back to his town and begins to burry Conrad and his daughter. Though Donald reminds him of Courtney's threat, Mercer reveals that there's no one left to punish them, and the townspeople eventually help him give a small funeral for the two.

Returning to his house, Mercer finds Tiki, Ophelia, and Soleil waiting for him. Though Tiki is worried when Mercer claims he plans to simply lash out against the Grimleal until they inevitably kill him, and though Mercer still refuses to help train and lead the girls, Ophelia convinces him to help with a smaller task. Caeldori was left in Southtown to ensure that Tiki had a safe place to stay, and Ophelia and Soleil just want to make sure she's okay. As Grimleal dark mages have a way of tracking Tiki if she stays in one place too long, Tiki then leaves for Southtown while Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil prepare for the trip.

Author's Notes - The first three chapters of the story were meant to have a western feel to them. Mercer's renouncing of violence for several years, only to return to it when provoked, was inspired by Clint Eastwood's _Unforgiven_. The rampage he goes on against the Grimleal was also inspired by Logan's rampage at the end of _Old Man Logan_.

 **Chapter 4**

"Notice me, Mercer!"

While preparing to travel to Southtown, Mercer is visited by a young man wearing an exact replica of his daughter's outfit. Introducing himself as Lucina, the man requests that Mercer join his organization and help him fight the Grimleal as he did to Courtney's forces, but Mercer is infuriated at the sight. Learning that his real name is Keith, the young man is shocked when he realizes who Mercer really is, and he insists that he is following in Lucina's legacy. Outraged, Mercer knocks him unconscious.

The group later heads to town for supplies, and though Mercer tells Ophelia and Soleil to help, the two instead get lunch. Mercer eventually relents when they offer him some food, and the two then share stories about Caeldori. Soleil also shares a story about Ophelia having used a body switching ritual on her to teach her a lesson, only for it to backfire.

The three are interrupted as a street performer begins playing songs that become more and more personal for Mercer. Confronting them, the man introduces himself as Theresa and promises to see them again.

Author's Notes - Theresa and his obnoxious singing was inspired by Harry Heck from Jonathan Hensleigh's _The Punisher_.

 **Chapter 5**

"Yeah. Every time I look at you girls, I see the faces of your parents and grandparents staring back at me. I… I couldn't lose you too."

In Ylisstol, Emperor Gangrel agrees to spend time with his infant daughter, Emmeryn, after his attendant informs him that is wife demands a break. The attendant also informs Gangrel that Chrom is alive, and that Theresa, who was actually Courtney's personal assassin, has asked for permission to kill him. Excited at the chance to get another trophy, Gangrel agrees.

Cramming onto Minerva's back, Mercer, Soleil, and Ophelia travel to Southtown only to find that the entire settlement has sunken into the ground, and Caeldori and Tiki are nowhere to be seen. Confused, they decide to head for the nearby town of Veslil.

Author's Notes - The Tunnellers, who were responsible for the attacks on Southtown, Veslil, and Nowi Falls, were inspired by the Moloids from _Old Man Logan_ and the Tunnelers from Obsidian's _Fallout: New Vegas_.

 **Chapter 6**

"Look at all those men and women out there with their _robes_ and their _uuuniforms_. Think of all the HARM they've DONE to US! To humanity! We can fix it though! We can make their empire disappear! We can make the world as it was before the pale hide of their pathetic civilization _infected_ it so!"

Arriving at Veslil, the first thing Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil see are the bodies of several Grimleal agents impaled on pikes. The second thing is a public execution lead by Keith. Disgusted that Keith apparently controlled the town, Mercer ran off, Ophelia and Soleil following him, only to encounter Theresa. The Grimleal assassin badly wounds them with his flintlock pistols, but he is killed by Keith before he can finish them off.

Meanwhile, in Ylisstol, Gangrel encounters a guilt induced hallucination of Lucina. Refusing to apologize for his actions, Gangrel clutches his Shepherd Slayer outfit, as the hallucinations disappear when he wears it.

Keith nurses Mercer and the girls back to health, but he breaks Mercer's knee and detains the three when he still refuses to join him. Remembering Ophelia's story, Mercer has her switch bodies with him, and the three trick Keith's soldiers into opening their cell. Mercer then fights through Keith's forces in Ophelia's healthy body and defeats Keith in a duel. However, the entire town of Veslil sinks into the ground before he can finish Keith off.

Author's Notes - This chapter marks the first appearance of gunpowder weapons in the story. Gunpowder weapons have actually appeared in Fire Emblem before. The ballisticians in Fates, and there's a scene in the Fire Emblem anime where cannons appear.

 **Chapter 7**

"If we can perfect the ability to open outrealm gates to other timelines, then I can be in one timeline. I can free myself of this."

Deep within The Rockpile, a Grimleal concentration camp not far from Ylisstol, Inquisitor Altman has Caeldori, captured before Southtown's destruction, brought before him. Altman believes that Severa and the other second generation Shepherds might have been exposed to radiation when passing through the Outrealm Gate to travel back in time, and the Inquisitor experiments on Caeldori to see if any traces of radiation were passed down to her body.

Altman then converses with an incorporeal entity about the Grimleal's plan to study the magic Naga used to open Outrealm Gates. Curious, Altman asks his ally about the nature of her existence, and the spectre reveals that she had once been a Shepherd, Tharja, and that she was forced to use an experimental spell to save her life when the Shepherds fell. She was transformed into an incorporeal being because her body became stuck between two timelines, and she now seeks to travel to another timeline to regain her body and escape from the Fell Dragon's rule.

Author's Notes - The Rockpile was inspired by a US military base that existed during the Vietnam War. Like the installation in this story, it was built on a very steep mountain and was only accessible through flight.

 **Chapter 8**

"I'm not leaving them. They have their whole damn lives ahead of them. They're not going to die because they went with me. Damn it they are not going to die!"

As the buildings of Veslil settle, Keith tells Chrom that the town was attacked by Tunnellers: undead man-eating monsters that mutated from Risen after the Fell Dragon forced them all underground. Unable to move through the building as Tunnellers break in and consume the corpses of Keith's soldiers, Mercer and Keith barricade themselves in and eventually begin to talk about Keith's backstory and his views of the world.

After several hours of waiting, Mercer and Keith make their way back to the building's basement to free Ophelia and Soleil. After switching bodies with Ophelia again, Mercer and the others leave the building to find that the entire town has fallen into an underground cavern. Ophelia casts a spell to summon Minerva, but the group is then attacked by Tunnellers. Keith is left behind after refusing to abandon his mask, and Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil only narrowly escape on Minerva.

The group rests in the badlands, and Mercer comforts Ophelia over the horrors they'd just endured. Mercer also tries to talk to Soleil. Though she insists that Ophelia needs him more, Mercer promises to be there for both of them. Soleil reveals that she believes Mercer to be a broken man, and that Ophelia and Tiki's idealistic belief in him is wrong. However, she also thanks Mercer for being there, and Mercer promises to find Caeldori.

Author's Notes - The body switching ritual that Ophelia does with Mercer references Ophelia and Soleil's support from Fates. A number of Soleil's supports also feature characters catching her practicing her singing and dancing.

 **Chapter 9**

"I am a survivor. I don't want to be, but I am a survivor."

With no other leads on where Caeldori might be, Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil return to his hometown. Mercer is only able to rest for a short amount of time before an angry mob of townspeople threaten his home. The townspeople have realized Mercer is actually Chrom, and they demand he leave before the Grimleal punish the town for harboring him. Though Mercer doesn't resist the townspeople, he is infuriated by it, and he blacks out from the stress and trauma.

Mercer wakes up in his bed to find that Donald has visited him. Clarifying that he didn't tell anyone Mercer's secret, Donald apologizes for what the town has done before leaving. Though Ophelia suggests fighting back against the town, Mercer refuses, and he and Ophelia discuss his life as Mercer prepares to pack the few possessions he has left.

The two are interrupted as Courtney, severely disfigured by his previous battle with Mercer, attacks the house. Quickly incapacitating Soleil and Ophelia, Courtney is almost defeated by Mercer, but he forces him to surrender by threatening Soleil's life. He informs Mercer that the group will be taken to The Rockpile before knocking him unconscious.

Meanwhile, within the installation itself, Inquisitor Altman communicates with High Inquisitor Aversa about the progress of "Project: Xenologue". In the prison courtyard, Caeldori learns that the guards use sedatives to keep the prisoners under control, and she begins to plot a breakout.

Author's Notes - To clarify, Donald as a young man was one of the Valmese soldiers the player encounters in Chapter 12. "Canonically" he was defeated by Cordelia, but was only playing dead.

 **Chapter 10**

"How do you think she felt when she realized that you were too weak to protect her? How do you think she felt when the Shepherds fell, and she realized that her idol broke her?"

After hearing a mysterious chant, Mercer awakes to find himself imprisoned in The Rockpile, Caeldori in front of him. The two are only able to speak briefly before Courtney arrives to torture them out of spite. He is interrupted by Altman, who informs Mercer that he will soon be sent to Aversa herself. The girls will stay in The Rockpile for the rest of their lives.

Mercer is then detained within the prison courtyard, and he reunites with Ophelia and Soleil after Altman finishes experimenting on them. To Soleil's disbelief, Caeldori initiates a prison riot she'd been planning, and the four are able to break into the armory and retrieve their gear. Observing the events, Tharja's spectre reminds Altman that Caeldori is the only link to Severa, and therefore the continuation of Project: Xenologue, and the Inquisitor has Courtney mobilize the Reavers: mindless shocktroopers created from brainwashed prisoners.

Courtney personally engages Mercer in battle as his Reavers attack the girls and the prisoners, and he defeats Mercer after unbalancing him with taunts about the Shepherds and his family. Dragging him to the edge of the mountain, Courtney almost throws Mercer off the ledge, but the girls unite and save him by knocking Courtney off instead. With Mercer on the verge of death, Caeldori suggests they take him to her mentor.

Meanwhile, with Theresa's failure, the Grimleal hires an orange haired freelance assassin to track down Chrom.

Author's Notes - Caeldori's escape plan, specifically the part about saving medication the guards force her to take and tricking them into ingesting it, was inspired by an episode of _The Rockford Files_.

 **Chapter 11**

"I just… the way I feel about you… I just wish you felt that way about yourself."

After hearing the mysterious chant yet again, Mercer awakes to find that he was nursed back to health by Cordelia. Now blind, Cordelia reveals that she raised Caeldori since Severa gave her up as a young girl. She also trained Ophelia and Soleil after Tiki brought them to her as teenagers, and the girls had been able to use her homestead as a safehouse ever since. Cordelia assures Mercer that she is glad to see him again, only to realize he's become consumed by guilt and self loathing. Desperate to make him feel anything else, and not wanting to waste the second chance, Cordelia reveals her feelings for him, but Mercer only insists that she deserves better. The two become alarmed as an explosion erupts from the nearby forest.

Meanwhile, the girls had been killing time in front of the house when the same explosion almost knocks them off their feet. Distracted, the girls are flanked by the orange haired assassin. The man has effortlessly incapacitated and bound them by the time Mercer and Cordelia arrive.

The assassin proceeds to attack Mercer and narrowly manages to defeat him through his advanced weaponry, and Mercer realizes that the man is none other than Gaius. Having become an assassin to survive over the past thirty years, Gaius blames Chrom and Robin for making him kill in the Shepherds, which made him lose his moral restrictions on killing. He further reveals that the loss of his family broke him, and that made him capable of killing for a living. Gaius further becomes enraged when he realizes the third generation Shepherds don't realize what happened thirty years ago, and he forces Mercer to tell them at gunpoint. Mercer reveals that he personally slew the Shepherds after an illusion spell made him hallucinate them as Risen. Though still filled with rage, Gaius is unable to finish Mercer in the presence of Cordelia, and he reluctantly abandons the contract.

Author's Notes - This chapter marks the first appearance of telekinesis. Ophelia's ability to use telekinesis was inspired by Robin's taunts in Smash Bros, by his ability to fly in his Smash Bros introduction trailer, and by Validar's ability to fly in the cutscenes of Awakening.

 **Chapter 12**

"Quiet! I know who she reminds you of, but I assure you she is not that woman. Lucina is dead. E-13 is a symbol of the new world order."

Aversa and many of her Inquisitors are summoned from the de facto capital of High Point to Gangrel's palace, filled with Gangrel's officers and Enforcers, by the Fell Dragon. Gangrel and Aversa soon begin arguing, which also causes a fight among their subordinates, but it is interrupted as the Anointed Ones appear with the Hierophant's body. The Fell Dragon, speaking through the Hierophant, admonishes Gangrel for not taking Chrom and Ophelia seriously. Both Gangrel and Aversa are warned to focus more on enacting the Fell Dragon's will. Aversa blames Gangrel for his failures to kill Chrom, and the Emperor vows to send his Chief Enforcer to deal with him.

In a laboratory underneath the palace, Courtney, now serving as the head of the operation to kill Chrom, meets with Dr. Kryczek, the director of the Reaver Program. Kryczek reveals that Gangrel's Chief Enforcer, now known as E-13, is none other than the infant Lucina brainwashed over the course of thirty years. Kryczek protests her field deployment, believing that her conditioning is not perfect, but Courtney drags him along as he is the only man E-13 will listen to.

Author's Notes - This is the first chapter to take place entirely from the Grimleal's point of view.

 **Chapter 13**

"Showtime, girl!"

For several days Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori refuse to speak with Mercer, and Cordelia eventually forces them to talk about their feelings. Ophelia expresses fear of him, Caeldori says that she has no respect for him anymore, and Soleil is enraged that he was responsible for her father's death. Cordelia tries to comfort Mercer after the girls leave, but he remains depressed.

Cordelia steps outside to speak further with the three, but they are interrupted as Courtney and a small army of Reavers emerge from the forest. Revealing that he'd seen Cordelia before and that he has a very personal grudge against the Shepherds, Courtney and his forces attack, but the girls manage to slay the Reavers and surround Courtney. Mercer himself attacks Courtney, but the Grimleal agent lures him towards the carriage where Kryczek had been keeping E-13, and Mercer finds himself dueling his own daughter. Traumatized and unwilling to kill her, Mercer tries to restrain E-13, but she overpowers him and uses the Parallel Falchion to tear open his intestines. Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori save Mercer by attacking E-13. She defeats them by severing Caeldori's right hand and viciously beating Soleil, but the violence causes her to lose control, and Kryczek himself has to repeatedly order her to reengage Mercer rather than pointlessly attack an already beaten Soleil. Ophelia takes the opportunity to injure Kryczek with her tome, but this enrages E-13 and causes her to attack Ophelia. Under extreme stress Ophelia manages to telekinetically seize E-13 and throw her into the forest, but the strain causes her to fall unconscious.

Courtney attacks Soleil as she tries to help Ophelia, but he is seemingly killed yet again as a bullet tears through the back of his head. Soleil sees Gaius calling to Cordelia for help before passing out.

Author's Notes - To clarify, Courtney as a child lived in one of the villages the player encounters in Chapter 8, the same chapter you recruit Gregor and Nowi. The Shepherds failed to save his village, setting him on the path of darkness.

 **Chapter 14**

"We're not exactly like the Shepherds, but we do believe in justice, and justice should come to few men's detriment but all men's fear."

Gaius and Cordelia flee on Minerva and Aurora, Cordelia's Pegasus, and set up camp in the badlands. Cordelia manages to stabilize Mercer and the girls. Though Cordelia is still bitter towards Gaius for attacking, Gaius claims that he gave the group's location to the Grimleal after abandoning the contract but quickly regretted it, and that he wishes to make up for his actions. The two are then confronted by a group of wyvern riders. Recognizing Cordelia, the leader identifies himself as Vasto and reveals that his forces are part of a resistance movement called the Archanean Liberation Front. He offers to take the two to a nearby settlement and provide medical attention for Mercer and the girls.

Mercer once again hears the mysterious chanting, this time seeing several of the Shepherds, before waking up to find himself in a hospital. Speaking to the woman tending to him, who is revealed to be Pheros, Mercer learns that Gaius is now with Cordelia and that the third generation Shepherds were all badly injured. Mercer is then able to speak with Cordelia again. Cordelia informs Mercer that the settlement is called Nowi Falls, having been built around the remains of her dragon form. The two then hear a speech Cervantes is giving to Arch Surg soldiers, revealing that he too was still alive.

Meanwhile, Soleil visits Caeldori as she's having a prosthetic hand attached. Though Caeldori is deeply traumatized by it, Soleil comforts her and promises to be more friendly to her in the future.

Author's Notes - The Arch Surg was partially inspired by the Viet Cong, with the Grimleal in turn taking inspirations from the Vietnam War era US military. The Viet Cong's official name was the National Liberation Front. The term Viet Cong comes from Việt Nam Cộng-sản (Vietnamese Communist) or alternatively Việt gian cộng sản (Communist traitor to Vietnam). Similarly, the Arch Surg's official name is the Archanean Liberation Front. The Grimleal called them the Archanean Insurgency, and that was corrupted into Arch Surg.

 **Chapter 15**

"I-I don't want, I don't want your help! I don't want your suffering! I don't want the pain you're bringing back to me! I'm not that man anymore! Leave me alone!"

Distraught over the sight of Nowi's corpse, Mercer almost assaults a merchant after she offers to sell him armor supposedly made from her scales, and Cordelia tries to cheer him up by taking him to a bar. Finding alcohol in Nowi Falls much cheaper than at his hometown, Mercer becomes drunk and snaps at Cordelia when she tries to get him to slow down. In a fit of rage and fear Mercer eventually strikes her, causing her to simply get up and leave. Overwhelmed even further by self loathing, Mercer resigns himself to drinking.

Mercer then experiences severe hallucinations of his enemies and allies, and the visions end as Cordelia warns him that he will die alone if he continues to push the few loved ones he has left away.

Awakening in a hay cart in the middle of the day, Mercer is confronted by Ophelia. Finally realizing how broken he is, Ophelia sadly informs Mercer that they'll leave him alone forever if that's what he truly wants before leaving on the verge of tears. Though Mercer desperately cries for her to come back, he is still too consumed with guilt to rejoin his companions, and he resigns himself to drinking once more.

Author's Notes - This is actually my favorite chapter.

 **Chapter 16**

"They never understood that Grima couldn't be defeated. The Fell Dragon's ascension was inevitable. Sure they were powerful warriors, but the strongest ant in the mound is still no match for the boot. Only by avoiding the gardener can the mound survive."

Within the remote city of Belfire, the capital of the Archanean Liberation Front, Keith travels to the citadel to meet with Archangel, the leader of the Arch Surg and his adoptive mother. Archangel reprimands Keith for failing to bring her Chrom and for not checking in with her after Veslil's destruction. She then sends him to Nowi Falls after he reports that he was spotted there, but only after reminding Keith that she loves him.

In Nowi Falls, Gaius catches up to Mercer and angrily assaults him for striking Cordelia. Realizing how much he hates himself, Gaius tells Mercer that suffering doesn't make up for what he did, and that he can only make up for what he did by helping the world. He further tells him that he can't help the girls if he isn't willing to be the man they looked up to. Though Mercer tries to return to drinking, he finds himself unable to stop thinking about the girls and Cordelia, and he leaves to apologize.

Mercer finds Cordelia tending to her Pegasus only to break down crying. Frustrated, Cordelia tries to tell Mercer that she truly forgives him for the fall of the Shepherds. Cordelia tells Mercer about how she developed feelings for him and about how he could still lead the girls in the fight against the Grimleal, but Mercer continues to insist that she should hate him. Unable to deal with the extent of his self loathing, Cordelia snaps and informs Mercer he should simply leave if he truly wants to be alone, but manages to calm down as her rant continues and also assures Mercer that they'll be there for him if he'll be there for the girls. Mercer seemingly walks away in the face of her yelling, deeply upsetting Cordelia, but she soon finds that he hadn't actually left. Realizing just how much she cares about him, and how much he fears losing her, Mercer removes Cordelia's blindfold to see exactly what he'd done to her. Though Cordelia expresses body issues about her injury, Mercer assures her that her eyes look beautiful, and he finally accepts her love for him as the two hold each other. He reciprocates her feelings soon after.

Meanwhile, Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori are looking for Cordelia. Accidentally walking in on Cordelia and Mercer in the stables, Ophelia tells Caeldori about what happened, and the two express disgust. Soleil finds it oddly arousing.

Outside of the city, Courtney and Kryczek set up camp as they prepare to attack Nowi Falls. The two also discuss E-13, Courtney believing that Kryczek is too soft on her, before Kryczek angrily dismisses him. Contacting Emperor Gangrel in the palace, Courtney requests Inquisitors and command of the 4th army. Gangrel agrees, but is then confronted by a hallucination of Walhart. Desperate to get away from the hallucinations, Gangrel sprints to his daughter's room as his hallucinations disappear when he's around her. Cradling her in his arms, he expresses his belief in the necessity of defeating the Shepherds and surrendering to the Fell Dragon, but further wonders why he feels guilty about it.

Author's Notes - Gangrel's guilt based hallucinations and the fact that he's only free of them when wearing his Shepherd Slayer outfit or when around his daughter takes inspiration from the mental insanity plaguing the main antagonist of Fritz Lang's _M_.

 **Chapter 17**

"That's not true. You don't hate him. You hate the world for what it's become, and you hate the Grimleal, and you're taking it out on him. It wasn't his fault, and he's sorry for what happened. He does care about you. He'd do anything to make it up to you."

Vasto informs Cordelia and Mercer that they've been summoned to Nowi Fall's citadel. Meanwhile, Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori are passing the time when Gaius approaches them. Though he criticizes them for their spending habits, he apologizes for having attacked them at the homestead and gives them money to make up for it. He also reluctantly allows the girls to strike him in retaliation. The four are then confronted by Pheros and several Arch Surg soldiers, and she escorts them to the citadel as well. Reaching the citadel, the group encounters Cervantes and Farber, revealing the later was still alive, and Mercer is brought in by himself. Vasto entertains the others with jokes, though Cordelia is less than amused.

Encountering an alive and well Keith, Mercer learns that Keith had been working for the Arch Surg the entire time and that he was normally in charge of Nowi Falls. Dismissing Pheros and the other soldiers after ordering her to ward off the approaching Grimleal 4th army with the city's garrison, Keith and Mercer are left alone. Though Mercer is furious with him, Keith apologizes for his earlier treatment of Mercer, Ophelia, and Soleil and insists that Mercer meet Archangel. Mercer also learns that Archangel was once a woman that knew him, and that she has personal reasons for wanting to see him again. Keith further insists that Mercer and his allies not leave the city, but he offers to accommodate them and pay for any services they use. Keith then insists on teaching Mercer how to use firearms. Though he eventually becomes proficient in their use, Mercer expresses a distaste of firearms, but Keith states that he might need one to save his life or the lives of his allies. He then gives Mercer one of the double barreled flintlock pistols he took from Theresa, having customized it with blue and gold plating and engraving it with symbols of the Ylissean monarchy.

Mercer embraces Cordelia as soon as he's free to leave, but this draws ire from Soleil as she still hasn't forgiven Mercer and believes Cordelia to be abandoning the three in favor of him. Cordelia stuns Soleil by hugging her, rather than arguing with her, and insists that Mercer can still lead them. She also assures all three of the third generation Shepherds that she loves them and is proud of what they've done. Mercer tells Soleil that he really would do anything to make it up to her, but Soleil still can't be around him. Vasto informs Mercer that Keith is actually Archangel's adopted son. Deciding his disheveled appearance isn't acceptable anymore, Mercer asks if there are any barbers nearby.

Mercer surprises Cordelia with his haircut, and the two disappear into the bedroom, much to the chagrin of everyone else.

Author's Notes - Vasto's joke about the Pegasus Knights is a variation of the World's Funniest Joke according to a 2002 study by Richard Wiseman of the University of Hertfordshire.

 **Chapter 18**

"Men like you and I, we're cut from a different stripe. We don't have to dream about bettering the world. We actually can."

Unable to sleep later that night, Mercer takes a walk through Nowi Falls and ends up conversing with Vasto on the city walls. The two are interrupted as an explosion tears through the wall on the other side of the city, and Vasto leaves to respond to it, leaving Mercer alone.

With the three girls sleeping in separate accommodations from Mercer and Cordelia, Caeldori is awoken by the explosion. She only barely manages to wake Soleil and Ophelia before Tunnellers attack their section of the city. Panicking, Soleil and Ophelia flee, but Caeldori stands her ground against them.

Mercer himself realizes that Tunnellers are assaulting the city after saving a merchant from one, and he's forced to wear the dragon scale armor from before after finding it in an abandoned stall to protect himself. Though the armor is almost destroyed in the fighting, Mercer encounters and defeats the majority of the Tunnellers before meeting up with Ophelia and Gaius. Though Ophelia and Soleil eventually returned to help Caeldori kill the Tunnellers, Courtney and his Grimleal Inquisitors ambushed Soleil and Caeldori afterwards, with Ophelia barely managing to escape. She also managed to overhear that Cordelia was captured. The three leave to find them, and Gaius eventually manages to locate Courtney and Kryczek's staging area.

Courtney and Kryczek have bound Soleil, Caeldori, and Cordelia by the time Mercer arrived, and Courtney had punctured Soleil's lung in frustration from her taunting. Kryczek insists that Mercer will be treated fairly if he surrenders and asks him to drop his weapon. He tricks Kryczek by appearing to lower his Falchion, only to quickly shoot and kill him with his newly gained pistol. Gaius and Ophelia emerge and subdue Courtney's men, forcing him to retreat. Caeldori takes the opportunity to break free of her bindings, but Cordelia insists that she help Soleil instead of her.

Mercer follows Courtney in a rage, but the agent is able to release E-13 from her carriage before he can catch up, and Mercer is once again forced to duel his own daughter. Furious over Kryczek's death, E-13 savagely murders a helpless Cordelia before engaging Mercer further. Mercer is almost overwhelmed by her ferocity and the shock of everything that had happened, but he manages to stun her by smashing her head against a wall. Horrified at what the Grimleal had done to her, Mercer states that he'll always love E-13, but he is forced to leave her body behind.

The group barely has time to mourn Cordelia's death before Courtney attacks with the remaining Tunnellers, but they are saved as Tiki reappears in her dragon form and effortlessly defeats them. Having been forced to move around since Caeldori's capture, Tiki apologizes for not being there earlier, but the girls are relieved to see her all the same.

The group holds a funeral for Cordelia. Realizing that his loved ones will continue to suffer if he does nothing, Mercer renounces his name and vows to stop the Grimleal. Aware of what he was doing and that Gangrel failed to kill him, the Fell Dragon itself roars in frustration.

Author's Notes - The confrontation with Kryczek, Courtney, and E-13 was inspired by the ending of James Mangold's _Logan_ , particularly Logan shooting Dr. Rice with a gun before being confronted by X-24.

* * *

 **Act 2: The Fall**

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

"Those who can wield the Falchion against me must be killed. If I have to go to the Ylissean continent myself, you WILL NOT like what I do! I will turn the surface into glass! Your miserable race will no longer be spared, and you will witness its DISMEMBERMENT!"

The city of High Point, the true capital of the Grimleal, was built with the assistance of the Fell Dragon itself. It levitates over a kilometer above sea level, and it constantly drifts around the world. High Inquisitor Aversa stays here when not carrying out an assignment from the Fell Dragon, as do hundreds of Inquisitors and the Grimleal's Political Bureau. Frustrated with Gangrel's failures, Grima orders Aversa to hunt down Chrom and Ophelia. As High Point has drifted hundreds of kilometers away from the Ylissean continent, Aversa complains about the trip, but Grima mentally tortures her until she submits.

In Nowi Falls, Caeldori visits an injured Soleil just as Soleil had done for her when she lost her hand. She then visits Cordelia's grave, only to find that Chrom is still there. Chrom and Caeldori ultimately reconcile over his role in the fall of the Shepherds, and Chrom leaves her to mourn Cordelia in private.

In the city square, Keith informs the surviving populace of the city that the Arch Surg will abandon it. Though Vasto criticizes Keith for not helping the citizens, the Justicar, with the support of Cervantes and Farber, simply dismisses him.

Ophelia finds Tiki looking solemnly over Nowi's remains, and the two discuss the history of her race. The two see Chrom walk up, and Ophelia enthusiastically suggests that they name his weapons. She gives his double barreled flintlock pistol the name "Thundergrypp" and proposes the two develop combo attacks. Chrom then gives Ophelia the Parallel Falchion, promising to finally help train her to use it. However, he becomes enraged when he realizes that he forgot to go back for E-13's body.

Outside the city, Courtney and the surviving Inquisitors have dragged E-13 away. Courtney promises to make her even more powerful than Kryczek did.

Within the Rockpile, Altman encounters Inquisitor Dartsmoth, a specialist assigned by Aversa to hunt down Chrom and Ophelia. Altman summons the Deadlords and gives Dartsmoth command of them.

Meanwhile, Cordelia finds herself in a void, hearing the same chanting that Chrom had heard. She is approached by a mysterious bearded man, who hypnotizes her and forces her to speak the chant alongside the rest of the Shepherds.

Author's Notes - High Point was inspired by Vykker's Labs from _Oddworld: Munch's Oddysee_.

 **Chapter 20**

"It's a Dolhrian attack, arseholes! Not so tough without your big lizard!"

Believing that Chrom and the others will leave Nowi Falls if left alone, Farber demands that Keith detain them. Though fearful of what Archangel would do if he failed to ensure their extraction, Keith was hesitant to forcibly capture Chrom as he had before, and he asks Farber to bring him proof that the group was planning to leave.

Ophelia and Soleil visit Minerva in the stables. They encounter Caeldori tending to Aurora, as Cordelia's death left her with without a master. Caeldori expresses doubt about her ability to care for Aurora. Beyond that, she worries that she won't be able to rebuild the Pegasus Knights as Cordelia wanted her to, believing herself not as perfect as her grandmother. Ophelia and Soleil reassure her that she is strong enough to do it. Meanwhile, Farber spied on the girls as they entered the stables, and concluded that it proved they were trying to leave the city.

Chrom encounters Gaius, drunk on wine the merchants had abandoned, while visiting Cordelia's grave again. Though Gaius is still bitter towards him, he admits that Chrom really did come to care about Cordelia and the girls, and the two slowly begin to reconcile. The two are approached by Vasto, who reveals that Keith will abandon the city without doing anything to help the civilians still living there. Chrom and Gaius agree to help Vasto assist them.

Gathering the rest of the group, Vasto leads Chrom and his allies around in circles before finally leading them into a trap, revealing that Vasto was acting on Keith's orders the entire time. Subduing Tiki with a sedative, Keith and his forces surround Chrom and demand the group's surrender. Though Caeldori briefly arrives on Aurora and incapacitates Keith's men, Pheros returns with the city's main garrison to reinforce Keith. The group attempts to resist, but the Arch Surg ultimately beat them into submission.

Author's Notes - This is the only chapter to feature Caeldori actually fighting on the back of a Pegasus.

 **Chapter 21**

"I still have… family?"

Dartsmoth arrives in Ylisstol with the Deadlords to begin his hunt. Temporarily dismissing the Deadlords to prevent them from scaring people, Dartsmoth decides to speak to older citizens to see what they can tell him about Chrom.

Having captured the group, the Arch Surg abandon Nowi Falls and make their way through the badlands as they travel to western Ferox. Cervantes is assigned to watch over Gaius and Ophelia, but he falls asleep, and the two are able to talk freely. The two bond as they talk about their families, and Ophelia gives Gaius' arquebus the name "Sunspitter". Pheros is assigned to watch over Caeldori, and the two discuss philosophy when Caeldori questions the justifications of her actions. Vasto is assigned to watch over Soleil, and he eventually manages to entertain her with a number of puns.

Chrom and an unconscious Tiki are kept with Keith, and the two men simply glare at each other until the convoy reaches its destination—Fort Morgan in Death Valley, the most arid part of the badlands. Tiki is taken deeper into the fort, and the rest of the group encounters Algol and Mustafa. Having no hard feelings towards Chrom, and recognizing the significance of the surviving Shepherds, Mustafa takes the group to another Arch Surg officer, who is revealed to be Henry.

Though he doesn't initially recognize them, Henry is happy to see Chrom and Gaius again, and the two are shocked as they realize he is seemingly apathetic to the fall of the Shepherds. Chrom in turn reveals to Henry that Ophelia is his and Lissa's granddaughter, and by extension he also reveals this to Ophelia herself. Mustafa quickly hurries the group to their prison cells to avoid attracting suspicion from other Arch Surg officers, leaving Henry stunned to learn that he still has family.

Author's Notes - By coincidence, this chapter was posted on the same day as Henry's birthday.

 **Chapter 22**

"So the ends justify the means? I thought that, you know. I thought that uniting the continent against Walhart was necessary, and I thought that anything I did to achieve that was justified. I was wrong. I became a monster."

As Grima refuses to move High Point closer to the Ylissean continent, Aversa is forced to sail there on her personal ship, the _Matriarch's Vindication_. Inquisitor Ascension, one of Aversa's most trusted agents, argues with the ship's captain, Cassia, and travels below deck to inspect her soldiers. Ascension forces her troops to worship the Fell Dragon, and a Deacon named Sentzke, who grew up with Ascension, is made to convert them. One of Ascenion's troops questions the religion while Sentzke is delivering a sermon, and Ascension forcibly drags her away. Despite Sentzke's pleading, she breaks the young woman's legs and hurls her overboard in a fit of rage. Meanwhile, Aversa informs her teenaged son Thallius, recently made an Inquisitor, that she expects him to do as he is told when they reach Ylisstol. Thallius is less than enthusiastic, and Aversa questions her decision to have children.

In Ylisstol, Gangrel remembers a conversation he once had with Lucina after asking her why she once tried to murder Robin. In the present, Gangrel is infuriated at Courtney's lack of progress and at E-13's disappearance, and he grabs Ragnell from his trophy room and smashes through the wall in a fit of madness. Unfazed, his attendant informs him that his wife is coming. Gangrel's wife, a much younger woman of Ylissean nobility, originally had inane complaints to vent about, but she is further infuriated at the sight of the hole in the wall and demands Gangrel repair it before storming off. Gangrel's own rage fades, and he briefly wonders what will become of his family after his inevitable death. Ignoring this, Gangrel's attendant also informs him that Aversa's ship was sighted off the coast, and that Grima has issued Black Authority. As this will give Aversa the right to appropriate whatever she sees fit from him in order to enact Grima's will, Gangrel orders that his assets be hidden. He also wishes to have Rouchfort, a talented general of his, command the Grimleal 2nd Army so that the entire army can be deployed to hunt down Chrom, thus proving to Grima that Gangrel can keep humanity pacified on his own.

In The Rockpile, Altman talks about his backstory, and then asks Tharja about her time in the Shepherds in order to prove her willingness to work with him. Tharja reveals that she was married to Gaius. Altman then tells her that the Deadlords were actually created from the corpses of Lucina, Owain, Inigo, Morgan, Yarne, Gerome, Kjelle, Laurent, Brady, Priam, Yen'fay, and her own daughter Noire. All of these Shepherds were experimented on after they were killed as they'd all passed through an Outrealm Gate at some point, and they were turned into Deadlords after the experiments were over to take advantage of their combat skills.

In Mercer's hometown, Donald returns home to his wife and daughters to find that his family was visited by Inquisitor Dartsmoth. Though Dartsmoth charms his family, he reveals to Donald that he knows about his backstory as a criminal and that he could have him imprisoned unless he tells him everything he knows about Chrom.

In a remote building hidden in Courtney's former sector, Courtney and the Inquisitors still with him torture E-13 as part of his twisted plan to make her stronger.

Author's Notes - Courtney's torture of E-13 was inspired by a training regimen the ancient Spartans supposedly practiced. Teenaged boys were kept half starved and were made to brave a gauntlet of beatings to retrieve food. Alternatively they were encouraged to steal to promote resourcefulness, but were punished severely if caught.

 **Chapter 23**

"There is a road in the hearts of all of us, hidden and seldom traveled, which leads to an unknown, secret place. You must understand the world itself, and you will think more deeply and feel more keenly. You will see more clearly into the mysteries of life and come closer in kinship to the lives of others. When you understand who you are, and what you are in this world, you will be able to keep these terrible futures from happening."

Imprisoned within Fort Morgan, Chrom and Gaius speak to each other within their prison cell. Though Chrom blames himself for what has happened to the world, Gaius reveals that Chrom has slowly started to inspire him again, and the two men further reconcile. They are visited by Old Hubba, a fortune teller they had met in the Outrealms, who now works as a kind of chaplain for the Arch Surg. Old Hubba reveals that the Grimleal have seized control of the Outrealm Gate and have sent armies into the Outrealms. Old Hubba joined the Arch Surg as they provide him with a place to stay, but he only gave Keith access to three Einherjar. Keith had sent Old Hubba to give a sermon, but Old Hubba instead shows Chrom a vision of the future. He then tells Chrom that he can prevent the horrible things he saw from coming to pass if he comes to understand the role he can still play in the world.

Meanwhile, Soleil, Caeldori, and Ophelia have been kept in a cell together. Soleil begins antagonizing Caeldori over a book of questionable content she'd been reading, and Ophelia unintentionally releases a blast of dark magic to separate the two. Having witnessed Ophelia's power, Henry is impressed and suggests that she has a natural talent for dark magic. Ophelia is initially enamored with her grandfather as he tells her things dark magic can do, but she becomes horrified when he casually reveals he once created a curse to brainwash a woman into loving a suitor, and that the Arch Surg had further commissioned him to create a similar curse to make soldiers mindlessly loyal. Unable to understand why Ophelia was disgusted with him, Henry then uses dark magic to heal Caeldori, still injured from Keith's attacks at Nowi Falls, at Soleil's expense. This infuriates Ophelia further, and Henry is left confused.

At the Arch Surg capital of Belfire, Archangel is preparing to leave for Fort Morgan to personally meet Chrom. She tells her biological daughter, Miranda, that she is leaving, but Miranda convinces her to read her smutty fiction first.

Author's Notes - The titles of this chapter and the previous chapter reference a quote by Chinese political leader Chiang Kai-shek. "The Japanese are a disease of the skin. The communists are a disease of the heart." The content of the chapters connects this to the Grimleal and Arch Surg respectively. The idea is that the Grimleal, a conquering regime, represents a superficial threat to the world. The Arch Surg, which seeks to overthrow the Grimleal in a revolution and build a new world, represents a threat to the future of the human condition.

 **Chapter 24**

"But… my kind faces a greater threat to its existence than anything we have ever seen. The Fell Dragon is destroying our very planet, and the Grimleal, race traitors all of them, poisons us and weakens us. Some of them may think that serving the Fell Dragon is necessary to save us, but they are really ensuring that we are too weak to rise up. They are keeping us stunted so that when Grima is ready to destroy us, we will die already on our knees. We have to defeat them. The Archanean Liberation Front is the future of the human condition… but we need money."

Keith visits Tiki, who has been imprisoned within a metal cell designed to be portable, and tells her that the Arch Surg will sell her to the Grimleal to collect a thirty million gold bounty the Grimleal placed on her. Keith then orders Vasto to have his wyvern riders carry the cell away.

Mustafa is training several soldiers when Henry visits him and tells him about Ophelia. Mustafa suggests Henry prove to her that he really wants to be part of her life. Henry thanks Mustafa, but also reveals what he told Ophelia. Alarmed, Mustafa worries about the nature of the curse the Arch Surg commissioned him to create.

Returning to Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori's cell, Henry insists that he wants to help the three. To prove this, he slays the soldier sent to guard them and lifts the curse he had placed on some of the Arch Surg soldiers in the fort. Warning the girls that the soldiers will likely lash out in anger, Henry destroys the cell door and offers to help them escape.

Author's Notes - Henry's power in this story reflects my idea that mages could logically grow more powerful over time if they continued to focus on magic, and they wouldn't grow weaker with age like physical characters would. Henry devoted himself to becoming a stronger dark mage as a coping mechanism after his family's death. At this point he's less like a playable mage unit, and is more comparable to exceedingly powerful sorcerers like Validar, Gharnef, or Iago.

 **Chapter 25**

"You have a destiny that does not end with these walls."

Chrom and Gaius are still within their prison cell when Old Hubba and a severely injured Mustafa approach them. Revealing that many of the soldiers in the fort have suddenly gone mad with inexplicable rage, Mustafa releases the two on his own volition and tells them they need to leave immediately. Chrom and Gaius don't trust the two, but don't see any other choice.

Fighting their way through the rebelling soldiers, which also helps to prove Mustafa isn't lying, the group makes their way to a secluded warehouse. Old Hubba and Mustafa reveal that Farber had commissioned the creation of an experimental weapon, inspired by the ballisticians from the legends of Nohr and Hoshido, and Chrom and Gaius are forced to use it to escape the fort. Though Pheros managed to surround the warehouse with her soldiers, the ballistician easily overpowers them, and Gaius eagerly cuts through the chaos in the fort. Mustafa then offers to assist an injured Pheros in exchange for her surrender, but she refuses to betray the Arch Surg.

Meanwhile, Henry had taken the girls to retrieve their weapons after helping them escape, but they'd become surrounded when the fighting started. Using his power to kill several attacking soldiers, Henry insists to Ophelia that dark magic is superior to physical combat, and uses the relative weakness of Soleil, Caeldori, and Chrom as evidence. He insists that he can help Ophelia reach her potential, but she is still wary of him. However, she does defend him when Soleil criticizes his use of dark magic.

Chrom and Gaius appear with the ballistician soon after. Though Chrom is happy to see the girls safe, he becomes depressed when Henry casually reveals the Arch Surg had already moved Tiki out of the fort. Ophelia tries to snap him out of it by returning the Falchion to him, and Chrom experiences a flashback of his father. Determined to be strong for his allies, Chrom notices Keith inspecting the ballistician and chases him back to the fort's citadel. Keith locks himself inside, but the group plans to use the ballistician to break through the gate and end Keith's threat once and for all.

Keith manages to summon the three Einherjar Old Hubba had given him, Celica, Micaiah, and Eirika, and the three are sent to protect the gate. Celica destroys the ballistician after her fire magic ignites the gunpowder, and the group is severely injured. In particular, Henry's nose is almost severed by a piece of shrapnel, and Caeldori's leg is badly wounded as several pieces of metal are embedded in her thigh. Chrom fights bitterly to protect them and manages to kill Micaiah and Eirika, but he is almost defeated by Celica before Mustafa saves him.

Unable to breach the citadel without the ballistician, Mustafa decides to help the group escape and takes them to where Minerva and Aurora were kept. Though Chrom demands to stay in a fit of rage, Mustafa insists that the group is too injured to keep fighting and that they cannot die in the fort. Mustafa further tells Chrom that Henry was likely responsible for the curse, and to be wary of his attempts to bond with Ophelia. Letting go of his hatred of Keith, Chrom agrees to leave.

Leaving the citadel, Algol, Farber, and Cervantes assist an injured Pheros. She proposes that the four hunt down Chrom on their own, without the oversight of Keith, and the three readily agree.

Author's Notes - Celica, Micaiah, and Eirika were among the heroines the Shepherds faced in Fire Emblem Awakening's Xenologue 1. Celica, who almost overpowers Chrom in this chapter, was the final boss.


	52. The Winter Festival

(Happy holidays everyone! This chapter is not meant to be taken seriously.)

December is here, and with it comes the Winter Festival. As bjorked as the world of Old Man Chrom is, even our battered heroes and the Grimleal's totalitarian state take time off to enjoy this magical part of the year.

The forested area outside of Ylisstol, one of the few fertile areas left on the planet, has become a winter wonderland of pristine snow. Hidden away in this area of picturesque beauty is Cordelia's homestead, a safe haven for our protagonists to enjoy the holidays. The Winter Festival means many different things to different people, and all of our heroes have something they're looking forward to the most. Some enjoy the time spent with friends. Some enjoy the decorations. Some enjoy the peace and quiet.

One avarice driven young woman in particular is looking forward to the material things she's sure she'll receive.

Chrom, Ophelia, Caeldori, Tiki, Gaius, and Cordelia were gathered in the living room admiring the Winter Festival decorations, (Which are similar to but unaffiliated with Christmas decorations. Nintendo appreciates all cultures and holidays.) and Cordelia herself was busy putting the finishing touches on the tree. "There." She said proudly as she placed the star on the highest branch. "All done."

"It's beautiful." Tiki said with a warm smile, and almost everyone else nodded in agreement. Gaius seemed more confused, and he lowered his glass of eggnog as he looked around.

"No one is going to ask? I have to be the one to ask? Alright, I'll ask. How do you do that while blind?!"

"Years of practice." Cordelia replied as she slowly descended the ladder. "I remember it ended up in the fireplace a few times when I first lost my vision, but I have an excellent sense of balance now."

Caeldori nodded. "I remember those years. I spent a lot of Winter Festivals here with grandmother. It was nice, but now I'm glad we can be with so many close friends."

Chrom stood up and looked around. The familiar face of a pink haired mercenary was the only one not present. "Almost everyone's here, anyways. Has anyone seen Soleil."

"She was in her room working on her list last time I saw her." Ophelia answered.

"Her list?"

"For things she wants for the Winter Festival."

"Her presents, huh? Yeah, really looking forward to spending gold on those. My favorite part of the season." Gaius responded dryly as he finished his glass. "How long has she been working on this list? Why has she been gone so long?"

"She started it about a week ago."

"A week?!"

As if on cue, it was then that Soleil chose to enter the room. There was a skip in her step as she approached, and clutched tightly in her hands was a list about as tall as she was. "Good morning, everyone!"

Cordelia turned to her general direction. "Soleil, it's almost dinner time."

"Is it? Time sure does fly when you're having fun. Anyways, I finally finished my Winter Festival list!"

Caeldori scowled. "Why am I not surprised. Rupturing bunions, Soleil! How many things are on that list?"

"Oh, you know. Just the stuff I really need."

Chrom walked over, and Soleil happily handed him her written down materialistic desires. He took a step back at the size of it. "Gods above! There has to be a hundred things on here!"

Soleil shrugged. "I lost count."

Chrom began to read aloud. "New boots. A new arm shield. A new sheath. Armor polish. New gauntlets. A replica of Olivia's outfit?! T-That's a little inappropriate, Soleil!"

"Oh, but she could wear it in public? I bet it'd look good on me."

Gaius took the list and scrolled down. "A bronze sword. An iron sword. A steel sword. A killing edge. A glass sword. A raider katana. A levin sword. Can you even use levin swords?"

"I don't know, but they look cool."

Tiki took the list. "Wyvern clothes?"

"I think Minerva would look adorable in them!"

Caeldori took the list. "A replica of Lucina's tiara?"

"I think it's cute."

"A replica of Conrad's mask?"

"I think it's From the legends of Alm and Celica?"

"A replica of the Omega Yato? What even is that?"

"It's… I'll tell you later."

Ophelia took the list. "A kitten poster. Jewelry. Silk bed sheets. A gift card for West Valmese Trading Company products. Orbs for some kind of character collecting game. A Captain Grimleal action figure. A Nintendo 3DS. What is that last thing?"

"I'm not sure, but apparently we owe our existence to it. I thought it'd be cool to have one."

Chrom seized the list and handed it back to the mercenary in exasperation. "Soleil, this list is ridiculous! There's no way we're giving you that much stuff!"

"Well hold on." Tiki spoke up. "What about the Spirit of Winter? If Soleil is a good girl, he might give her some of those things."

Gaius snickered. "The Spirit of Winter? You mean the big, jolly man in the red suit with the white beard?"

"Yeah!"

Chrom shook his head. "Tiki, that's made up. There is no Spirit of Winter. It's a legend."

"Mar-Mar became a legend to your kind, and he was real."

"It's a different kind of legend."

"So it's just a tale people tell their larvae for fun?"

"Well humans don't call their children larvae, but otherwise, yes. If we wanted to give Soleil all these things, we'd have to buy them with our own money."

"I see." Tiki frowned. "It seems selfish to ask so much of your friends, Soleil. You're being a naughty larva, I mean child, I mean young woman."

Soleil crossed her arms. "Why are you all ganging up on me?! You asked me to make a list."

Chrom glared at her. "We asked you to think about a few things you would really enjoy getting. Everyone will give everyone else one gift. That's it."

"So I have to narrow it down to just six gifts from all of you? That's going to be hard."

"It's not about gifts, Soleil! At this point I'm not sure we should give you anything!"

"Huh?!"

"I'm serious! I'm very disappointed in you right now. You know, one of my earliest memories is celebrating the Winter Festival with Emmeryn and my parents when I was just three years old. I remember my father asked me what I wanted. After I asked for more than three things, he snapped and told me that the Winter Festival was about spending time with family. He also told me that Ylisse didn't have much to spare because of the war effort, but that's beside the point."

"I agree with Chrom." Cordelia said in a stern tone. "Not everything is about you, Soleil. Have you thought about what you're going to give the rest of us?"

Soleil's eyes widened as she realized the truth in Cordelia's words. She hadn't once thought about her gifts for other people. "Not yet."

Ophelia stepped forward and gave her friend a more sympathetic look than everyone else. "The Winter Festival isn't about receiving gifts, Soleil. It's about being with your loved ones. We give each other gifts to show that we care. To show that we're really thinking about someone's interests and hobbies. There's nothing like seeing the look on someone's face when they open that gift you just knew they'd love. Sure we then receive gifts from other people, but the spirit of the Winter Festival is about giving. It's about celebrating our friends and family, and gifts are just a part of that."

"Gifts for other people? Hmm."

Chrom pointed to Soleil's list. "I want you to do two things, Soleil. First, narrow down your list to just a few things you really want. Second, I want you to focus on what you're going to give to other people."

"Heh, does my smile count as a gift by itself?"

"Sure, if you're okay with only getting that in return."

"Point taken."

Ophelia smiled. "Come on, Soleil. Really think about what everyone might want. This is the best part about gift giving."

"What you really want, huh?"

* * *

Soleil took everyone's words to heart, and she spent the next several weeks working hard on finding the perfect gifts for everyone. On Winter Festival eve, just before dinner, Soleil surprised everyone by walking in with a big sack full of gifts, and she excitedly set them under the Winter Festival tree as everyone gathered around. For Chrom and Tiki were small packages. For Gaius, Cordelia, and Ophelia were medium sized packages. For Caeldori was a large, flat one. Everyone else had long since acquired their gifts for each other, but there was no disappointment in their faces as Soleil looked back to them. Chrom in particular looked proud of her. "Good job, Soleil."

"Ophelia was right. It was a lot of fun thinking about what everyone would want. I almost wish you could open them now. I can't wait to see you open them!"

Cordelia chuckled. "Don't worry, Soleil. You just have to wait one more day."

"I suppose it's just as well. I probably won't be back until tomorrow anyways."

Chrom looked at her curiously. "Where are you going?"

"And why is your sack still full of items?" Caeldori added. Soleil's sack was still comically oversized, almost as if she'd become the Spirit of Winter. "Did you buy all that stuff you wanted for yourself?"

"Soleil, you didn't?!" Chrom said with a frown. "We bought you some of the things you asked for, and we don't want our gifts to be for nothing. Besides, surely there's something better you can do with your gold."

"Give me some credit, guys! These aren't for me! These are gifts for the other characters."

"The other characters?"

"The _other_ characters."

* * *

Soleil had _really_ taken everyone's words to heart, as she hadn't just bought gifts for her friends. She'd taken the time to spread the joy of the Winter Festival to everyone. Even the morally ambiguous leaders of the Archanean Liberation Front needed some holiday cheer, as Archangel and her officers would soon learn when the smiling mercenary made her way to Belfire.

"Oh, it's you." Archangel stated in her commanding voice as she answered the door to her citadel. The Pegasus Knight turned Insurgent was without her heavy armor and wing harness, and she took off her flight helmet when greeting Soleil, but the faint purple glow that her eyes continued to give off still contributed to a rather menacing air about her. "I don't think we ever met in the main story. You're Inigo's daughter, right?"

"Yep! That's me." Soleil said as she hoisted her sack over her shoulder.

"I can't say I ever imagined your father having any children. I mean, I used to be more popular with women than he was. Anyways, why have you come before us?"

"To celebrate the holidays with you! I got gifts for all the important Arch Surg characters."

"... Excuse me?"

"It's not a trick or anything. I promise! Even you fops deserve Winter Festival gifts."

"You really expect me to believe you came here to bring us gifts?"

"Come on. I know you try to be this big, scary rebel leader now, but deep down I'm sure you're still that fun loving, hero worshipping Pegasus Knight everyone knew and loved. Don't you want to celebrate the holidays?"

Archangel crossed her arms. "Do you even know my birth name?"

"Sure I do. It's… uh… Catria!"

"No."

"Clair?"

"No."

"Subaki?"

"Stop guessing."

"Lucina?"

"I said stop guessing! You know damn well I'm not Lucina!"

"Alright, that one was a shot in the dark, but I really did think about gifts you and your insurgency besties would like. I even talked to Chrom and Cordelia about you!"

"And yet you didn't know my name?"

"Let's not get caught up on the details. I really do have some great gifts for you guys, and it'd mean a lot to me if you'd at least see them." Soleil quickly reached into her sack and pulled out a tall, thick gift for Archangel. "Here's yours."

"Know this, mercenary. I have not survived these past thirty years through weakness. I could end your life before you even finish screaming, so you'll regret it if this is a trap."

"Yeah, yeah. Scary dialogue. Just open it."

Archangel reluctantly complied, and she walked inside the building to set her gift on a nearby table. She tore away at the wrapping paper with her one and only free arm to find a stack of books, and her eyes lit up as she read the covers. "Shanty Pete and the Haunted Pirates. A Simpleton's Guide to Pegasus Care. Wyvern Wars: Terror at High Noon. Ribald Tales of the Faith War. The Princess Who… Fell Down the Stairs." Archangel couldn't quite remember where she'd heard of these books, but she knew they were familiar. "What is this? Why do I feel like this?!"

"Like I said, I talked to Chrom and Cordelia about your past. About your mother. These are all books she used to like. I thought maybe you'd appreciate them. To have some kind of connection to her."

And for a moment, an instant, Archangel was Cynthia again. "Sumia. I… I don't know what to say. You… went out of your way to learn about me."

"Happy holidays… Cynthia."

"You were just messing with me before?! Heh… ha, ha! You're alright, mercenary."

"Aaaww." The two women looked to see Vasto entering from another room. He'd apparently overheard everything. "You look like you're about to cry, Archangel."

"C-Cry? This heroine?! I am a revolutionary! I shall lead us all into a better world! I don't cry! Not me. No sirree, not this woman." Archangel hid her emotions behind exaggerated movements and mannerisms. "Now I shall be off to my quarters to plan the war effort."

"And to cry?"

Archangel scooped up her books and stormed off. "Silence, Vasto!"

Vasto chuckled to himself until he brought his attention back to Soleil. "Wait… why are you really here? Is this an attack? I don't actually have my axe. Hold on! Time out!"

"No, no! I have gifts for everybody. Really." Soleil reached into her sack and pulled out a package for Vasto. He opened it to find a knitting kit. "I heard about how your mother used to knit. I thought maybe you'd appreciate this."

"Alright! I used to love knitting with her." Vasto straightened himself as Keith and the other officers entered the room. "I mean, I don't like knitting. I like manly things like… titties… and bacon… and, uh, bacon titties."

"Quiet!" Keith snapped. "Why does this intruder still live?! Get rid of her!"

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Princess. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten you anything, but for some reason I did." Soleil handed Keith his gift, and he unwrapped it to find an articulated figurine of Lucina herself. "Ta da! Because you're so obsessed with her. I honestly couldn't think of any other hobby you had."

"I am an officer in a righteous crusade that will purge the corruption infecting our land and bring about a glorious revolution! Why would I-" Keith accidentally tapped the figurine's arm, causing it to move. He immediately became more interested in it. "Ooh, it's poseable!"

Soleil turned to Mustafa and handed him his gift. It was a young peach tree in a pot. "Henry said you used to give him peaches when he visited your family. I thought maybe this would remind you of them."

Mustafa gave a warm smile. "Ah. A young plant, just beginning its life. A great symbol of how life will always persevere, even in this desolate world. Thank you."

Soleil then stepped over to Algol and handed him a bolt axe. "Here you go, you crazy cultist you. I heard about how the Shepherds took a bolt axe off of you after you were defeated in Plegia Castle, so here's a new one."

"Alright! I can already smell the people I'm going to fry with this thing!"

Pheros looked between the other officers. "Is no one else realizing how significant of a security violation this is?"

Soleil reached into her sack and pulled out another gift. She tried to wrap it, but it was very obviously another axe. "Hey, I also got something for the three of you. It was expensive, and I couldn't decide who would like it more, so you'll have to share it."

Soleil held it out, but none of the Valmese generals stepped forward to take it, so she unwrapped it herself. Farber scowled as he watched. "Whatever your meager offering is, it cannot possibly please-BY THE EMPEROR! Is that what I think it is?"

Cervantes stepped forward to take the weapon in question as Pheros and Farber looked on. It was a replica of Wolf Berg, Walhart's personal axe. "I can't believe it, lass! You got this for us?"

"You three seem to idolize Walhart so much. I thought you'd like it."

"Thank you, my girl. I fine gift, that."

"You're welcome!"

Soleil left Belfire with a spring in her step, and the Arch Surg looked on in confusion and awe at her unexpected generosity. Everyone but Farber and Cervantes. "Quit hogging it!" Farber snapped as he tried to take it.

"I'm the one who reached out and took it! I'll let you see it later."

Pheros sighed. "Great. Now I have this to look forward to for the rest of the day."

* * *

Soleil made her way to Ylisstol, the official capital of the Grimleal, and travelled to the royal palace. After gaining access to the building, (guards made to work on the Winter Festival are easily bribed after all) she found the room where the Grimleal characters were having their own celebration and knocked on the door. Courtney answered. "What do you want, dyke?"

Soleil had to remind herself of the spirit of the holidays to not turn around and leave. "Nice to see you too, ya masked moron. I'm here to bring you all some gifts. You know, as part of the Winter Festival cheer?"

"What the hell? This is the _antagonist_ Winter Festival party. You're a _protagonist_. Not sure why the author has you insurgents as the main characters, but that's just the way it is."

"Psh. That's easy. It's because I'm canon. I was written in Japan, the country that created Fire Emblem. You're just some character the author made up. You were written in America, and all that place contributes to Fire Emblem is… like… fan art."

"So that means I'm less important than you?!"

"Yes."

Courtney's rage was visible even through the tiny eye holes in his mask. "Look, kid. We antagonists work very hard. We don't need you ruining our time off."

"It's hard being evil?"

"Woah! We prefer the morality neutral term 'antagonist'. We work very hard to create conflicts for the main characters, and no one ever thanks us. No one ever cheers for us. No one leaves a review along the lines of 'I really liked that part where Courtney punched Chrom in the face'. We get no respect."

"Alright, alright." Soleil raised her hands in exasperation. "Look, I'm not here to fight. I really do have gifts for everyone."

"Get out of here! Grimleal characters only!"

"I was in the Grimleal army as part of my backstory."

"But you left."

Soleil looked past Courtney to see who was there. "Wolcroft got arrested for treason and she's here."

Lieutenant Wolcroft turned at the sound of her name while stuffing a shrimp from the catering table into her mouth. "Mph. She's got ya there, Court-neh."

"Ugh."

Soleil reached into her sack and pulled out Courtney's gift. "Maybe this will change your mind?" Soleil noticed that Courtney's prosthetics would make unwrapping the gift awkward, so she did it for him. "Here you go! A new mask!"

Courtney's new mask had a purple Mark of Grima emblazoned on it. "Oh. It's a bit generic, but I suppose I can wear it if I'm ever feeling really patriotic towards our empire. Thanks."

"So can I come in?"

"Sure. Why not. We ain't got nothing to lose."

Courtney let Soleil in with a shrug, and she happily skipped to the center of the room and set down her sack. She then looked up to see a number of weapons pointed at her. "Stop right there, criminal scum!" Thomas spat as she readied her bow. "You've committed crimes against the Grimleal and her people. What say you in your defense?"

"Woah! Come on! I have free stuff for you guys!"

"Oh… why didn't you say so."

"Happy holidays, everyone! I have a little something for all of you."

Soleil started handing out her gifts. SOG agent Semyonov was the first to open his, and he unwrapped the gift to find an English-Russian dictionary. "Huh?!"

"It always seems like you're having trouble with our language. I thought that might help you."

"это пиздец! Я ненавижу ваш язык."

"You're welcome." Soleil then handed Inquisitor Dartsmoth his gift, a receipt for an accent removal class she had paid for. "Same with you. This class can help make you easier to understand."

"What the bloody hell do you mean?!"

"You know, that accent of yours? It makes you hard to understand sometimes. You pronounce words differently, and you're always using expressions nobody else uses."

"I am not always using expressions nobody else uses! Now, I'm going to get me a beer. I'm dryer than a dead dingo's donger… I mean, I'm thirsty."

Soleil then gave Inquisitor Altman his gift, a planner. "Here you go. You're always busy with all kinds of nefarious tasks, so this can help you keep track of it all."

Altman had already started to write in it. "I assure you my organizational skills are not lacking, but I can always use another one of these."

Soleil then gave Inquisitor Thomas her gift, a letter. "I wasn't sure what to get you, but then I remembered how you were hunted by your own father after you turned to crime. How the Grimleal gave you a chance to be free of him."

Thomas scowled. "My father cares more about the family name than he does his daughters. I mean, he gave me and my younger sisters boy's names out of spite just because our mothers couldn't give him sons!"

"Yeah, there's a lot to unpack there. Still, he misses you. He wrote this letter for you to read. I know you hate him, but it's the Winter Festival. Not everyone has a father, you know. You shouldn't be so eager to get rid of yours."

Thomas slowly took the letter and looked it over. "D-Daddy?" She looked around to her more stern and emotionless comrades. "I mean, psh, whatever."

Soleil then handed Inquisitor Ascension her gift, a longsword. "Here you go. Now you don't have to swing that wooden club around anymore."

"I much prefer to crush the skulls of heretics with a club, but thank you, infidel."

Soleil then handed Deacon Sentzke, who'd been hiding behind Ascension since Soleil entered the room, his gift. It was a book of psalms. "Here you go. You're a religious crackpot, aren't you?"

"Thank Grima! Now I can make my sermons forty minutes longer! My record is five and a half hours."

"Uh, I got that for you, but whatever." Soleil then handed E-13, the brainwashed younger Lucina, her gift. It was a book titled "Brainwashing and You: How to Achieve Self-Actualization in the Face of Your Behavioural Conditioning". Soleil winked at her. "I think you could really benefit from this."

E-13 excitedly flipped through the pages, but she could only respond with a scripted phrase. "E-13 is ready for compliance?!"

Soleil then handed Dr. Kryczek, E-13's handler, his gift, a book titled "The Psychology of Happiness". "You're always so serious. You're a psychologist right? Maybe this could help you."

"The psychology of happiness? Ridiculous. Human life is expendable. Things like happiness are irrelevant in the pursuit of our new order. We do what we do for the good of everybody, and we don't require your understanding. We only require that you stay out of our way."

"Yeah… you should really read that." Soleil then handed Mother Margaret—leader of the Anointed Ones, who are tasked with taking care of the Hierophant's body—her gift, a loofah with a handle. "Here you go. I know Robin, or I'm sorry, The Hierophant can't take care of himself and they make you clean him. Now you don't have to touch so much of him with your bare hands."

Margaret smiled as she took it. "Oh, I'm quite desensitized to middle aged man junk at this point, but I appreciate the thought."

Soleil then handed Bernitz-Heimeroth, a leading engineer, his gift. It was a parasol. "I noticed that you always wear a thick suit of armor when you're outside. Are you afraid of the sun or something? Anyways, this could help with that."

Bernitz-Heimeroth was wearing that armor even now, and he clumsily took his gift. "My body is intolerant of sunlight. It could literally kill me. I don't think a parasol is enough to guarantee safety."

"Well… now you look more stylish." Soleil then handed Wolcroft her gift, contact information for a good lawyer. "I think this guy could really help you, Wolcroft, since you were turned into an unperson in the main story and all."

Wolcroft stopped eating the free food and hung her head. "Uh… thanks."

Soleil finally hoisted her sack back over her shoulder and made her way through the crowd to reach Gangrel and Aversa themselves. The two leaders of the planet glared at her, unsure of what to think. "Well, isn't this interesting." Aversa said with a sly smile. "Tell me, love, what grand act of heroism is this?"

"Why, mother?" Thallius responded sarcastically as he swirled his spiked eggnog around in its glass. "You're turning down yet more materialistic crap? You must be a changed woman. Next you'll tell me you're throwing away all those high heels that look _so_ good on a sixty year old woman."

Aversa gritted her teeth as she turned to him. "I'm still in my fifties. Besides, what choice do I have but to use illusion magic to maintain my youth? I'd still have it if bearing a son hadn't stolen it from me."

Servillia walked over and slapped her brother in the back of the head. "Quiet, Thallius. We'll let you know if we need the opinion of a teenage drunkard."

Fulvia, the last of the High Inquisitor's children, moaned quietly. "Come on, guys. It's the holidays."

Soleil set down her sack in front of the four. "You all don't strike me as the happiest family. That's why I got you this. It's for all of you."

"All of us?" Servillia asked as Soleil handed her information for a therapist.

"I paid for an appointment with a therapist that specializes in dysfunctional families. I really think you guys should see him. Then you can all be a big happy family again." The four looked at each other uneasily as Soleil approached Gangrel's attendant. "And I have something for you too. I know you're always working so hard."

"Does the young woman fancy herself a patron of the working classes?" Gangrel's attendant responded in his usual emotionless tone. Soleil handed him his gift, and his expression actually changed somewhat as he realized what it was.

"It's a service that will send people to replace you if you ever want to take some time off. I paid for a few days worth. You just have to decide when to take your vacation."

"Oh. That's actually very thoughtful. Thank you."

Soleil then turned to Gangrel, who tried his best to look intimidating. "And why do you stand before me, the Mad King of Plegia, and the Emperor of all Humanity? Surely you realize how much hatred your friend Chrom has for me. I am the author of all his pain."

"Come on. It's the Winter Festival. Can't we leave all that behind for just a little while? I got you something too."

"There is nothing I can't have at the snap of my fingers. What could you possibly have that… I… could…" Soleil handed Gangrel baby clothes for his newborn daughter, named after the former Exalt. "Oh, it comes with a little bow. I… you got this for me?"

"I wasn't sure what you would want, but you care about your daughter. I'm sure she'll love it."

"I…" Gangrel rubbed his head. "And to think I came here to get away from my wife and daughter. Well… I could still use a break from the wife."

Soleil smiled as she picked up her sack. The spirit of giving truly was a wondrous thing, and she had still had yet more gifts to give.

* * *

"Well how about that!" Roy-Earle, a successful business owner and entrepreneur who has never been _definitively_ connected to organized crime, smiled as he unwrapped a vintage bottle of brandy. "You're a devil after my own heart!"

"I'm glad you like it!" Soleil took out a brand new arquebus and handed it to Malc, an associate of Roy-Earle who is in no way a hired hitman and enforcer. The rough and intimidating man couldn't hide a look of bewilderment on his face.

"You're just giving this stuff to us?"

"Happy holidays! I noticed your old gun had half the barrel sawed off. Heh, you should be more careful with it."

"I did that on purpose."

"Why? Don't you want your guns to be nice and pretty?"

"That's not the point of a… whatever. I'll take it." Malc grabbed the arquebus and immediately began inspecting it. "Thank you."

"Aww, come on now. You might try to look like a big ol' meanie, but I bet you have a smile in there somewhere." Soleil gave a playful smile of her own and nudged Malc, but he just returned a snarl. Soleil was left awkwardly standing there until she finally gave up. "Ah, maybe next time."

Soleil then turned to find Anna, a legitimate merchant who definitely wouldn't sell anything to anyone, already standing behind her. "Surely you got something for little old me, right? R-Right?"

"Sure did."

"Gold-gold-gold-gold?!" Anna chanted to herself in a louder voice than intended. Soleil shook her head as she pulled out a letter.

"Anyone can give you gold as a gift. I wanted to give you something special."

"Oh." Anna immediately lost her excitement. "Yeah, well, I have a lot of work to do-"

"Come on! Give me a chance!" Soleil handed her the gift. "Open it."

"... Gold?"

"I already said… just open it."

Anna didn't expect much from the envelope, but she froze as she opened it. "Is… how did you…"

"It's a postcard, and all your sisters wrote you something inside of it."

Anna read over it. "All of them. Even the one… and the Anna with the… and the one who travelled with… how did you possibly do this?"

"They just had me deliver it to you. I know you can't be with your whole family, but they miss you. The holidays are about family. I'd give anything to have the chance to know mine."

"This is amazing. Thank you."

"Much better than gold, huh?"

"Well…"

Soleil skipped off, leaving the three entirely law abiding citizens stunned. "Well that was nice of her." Roy-Earle chimed.

Malc, already hard at work sawing off the barrel of his new gun, shrugged. "I'll make sure to remember it if anyone ever puts a hit out on her. She'll go quietly."

"And they say there aren't any gentlemen anymore."

* * *

"Hmm? A gift?" Corriveau of the Grimleal Rangers unwrapped Soleil's present to find a thick, hard covered book. On the cover was a depiction of a young woman holding a butterfly mask. It looked a lot like Lucina… if Lucina had gray hair and could spontaneously melt into butterflies. Lisia and Phoenix eagerly leaned over to look, and Ferguson watched nervously from a distance. "Oh, it's a book."

"What's it say?" Lisia asked excitedly.

"The Art of Fire Emblem: Awakening. What's this?"

Soleil smiled. "Merry Winter Festival! I think you all could benefit from reading this, since you're so similar to existing characters and all."

"We're similar to existing characters? I don't… huh?!"

"Just flip through that book, and pay attention to the artwork. You'll see what I'm talking about. I mean you're basically a girl version of a man I know, and I, heh, I think you're a lot cuter. Uh… are you doing anything later?"

"Uh…"

"Ah, I should get back to delivering these gifts. Anyways, I hope you all have happy holidays, even if you are grimmies."

Soleil skipped away as the three female Rangers flipped through the book. "What did she mean by similar to existing characters?"

Lisia pointed to something in the book. "Hey, this guy kind of looks like you, sis. What's his name? Chrom?" Lisia flipped a few pages. "Hey, this lady looks like me! What's her name? Li-"

Ferguson seized the book, hurled it to the side, and destroyed it with a fuse lit grenade. "Enough reading! I don't know what you people are on about! We are not simulacrums of men and women that lived thirty years ago! Absolutely not! Now come on. This cold weather is great for aerobic exercises."

Corriveau nodded. "Rangers should always stay in shape. That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Come on, Lisia."

Lisia moaned. "But it's the Winter Festivaaal! Mmm, I wanted to read that."

* * *

"Ghost stories?" Soleil had paid a visit to Tharja, and the spectral Shepherd now held, or rather levitated, the pink haired mercenary's gift. It was a book of ghost stories. "Because that's what I am now? This is funny to you?"

Soleil smiled wider than normal. "Well I wasn't sure what you'd want, but come on! That's funny! Huh?! Ghost stories for the ghost? That's hilarious! Are you smiling? I can tell if you're smiling."

Tharja did something she had yet to do in the main story. She altered her spectral form. Rather than manifest as a transparent mass with glowing red eyes, she revealed her ability to look like her younger self. Tharja was still somewhat see through, and her legs were missing at the thighs, but she now looked like a gray version of her normal, younger self, though her eyes still glowed. Soleil could see she was not smiling. "Do I look like I'm amused?"

"Well, I'm sure you'll get it later. You know, you don't have to spend Winter Festival by yourself. I'm sure Chrom and Gaius would be happy to see you again."

"Hmm. Maybe I could see them again."

"Really?"

"And maybe we'll recreate the Shepherds. Once again we'll fight for the forces of good, and light, and kittens, and cupcakes, and warm fuzzies."

"Ghosts can be sarcastic?"

Tharja finally did smile, though it wasn't reassuring on her transparent visage. She hovered in front of Soleil and ran her finger under Soleil's chin as she spoke softly. The two couldn't physically touch, but Soleil would swear she felt a tingle. "You're innocent. It almost makes me worry about you. Enjoy your little holiday, girl, but know that there's a storm coming. Maybe you shouldn't be in its path."

Tharja then phased through Soleil. She immediately turned around, but the dark mage had already faded away. "Huh, I don't think I've been turned on by a ghost before. This is a fun day!"

* * *

Soleil had given away almost all of her Winter Festival gifts, and now there was just one final gift to give. This present was for the character that made Fire Emblem: Awakening possible in the first place, but what do you get the god of death that has everything?

"Child of my foes, why have you come? I offer you no forgiveness." Grima, manifesting in the Hierophant's body, slowly stepped closer to Soleil. She smiled as wide as ever, but her voice came out rather cracked.

"Because it's the Winter Festival, you big abomination you! I, heh, I got you something."

Grima clenched the Hierophant's fists. "I may allow your kind these holidays, but I will _not_ indulge in the customs of your pathetic race. Now why don't you turn and leave, and I may derive some enjoyment from watching your little mammalian feet try to run."

"Aww. Is someone a widdle gwumpy?"

The Hierophant's six glowing red eyes burned with intensity. "Begone you perverted, pestering, primate!"

"Wait-wait-wait! Just let me show you your gift! Come on, you don't have anything to lose." Soleil quickly took out her gift for Grima, an Einherjar card, and summoned an Einherjar of none other than Lucina. The Hierophant's fade twisted with fury. This wasn't just generic bad guy fury. Nay, Grima was so furious at the sight of its foe that it looked like it was trying to prevent the Hierophant from having a seizure.

"What is this?!"

"Ta da! I got you an Einherjar of Lucina!"

"Of… krrg… MMMPH… GAWRRG… BWARRGH… **_UNACCEPTAAAAABBLLEEEE_**! As much as your disgusting race has proliferated in both numbers and destructive capacity, this _female_ _adolescent_ is the one human I despise the _most_! She has evaded me at every turn. She even broke spacetime itself just to thwart me! Why do you think I would ever want to see her again?!" The Hierophant began muttering incomprehensibly with rage. "Naga's wench… princess… insect… inbred… bullying… plot armored… magic sword-"

"Hold on! Let me explain." Soleil motioned towards the Einherjar like a salesman might towards their product. "I know how much you hate Lucina, you big evil dragon. That's why I got this for you. It looks and sounds exactly like Lucina, but it's not really alive. You can do whatever you want to it, and if it dies, you can just resummon it. It's like a big stress ball!"

Grima thought about it. "I can do… anything I want?"

"Go ahead. Vent all that anger. Give it a try."

The Hierophant materialized a lightning bolt in its hand and drove it through Lucina's abdomen. The Einherjar recoiled in pain before falling over dead. Soleil then resummoned it, and Lucina reappeared good as new. Grima killed Lucina a second time, and again Soleil resummoned the Einherjar. Grima paused, and its voice seemed genuinely moved. "Human… this is the greatest thing anyone has ever given me. You got this for me? You thought about me this much?"

"Happy holidays, Grima. I don't think anyone's ever said that to you before, but everyone deserves a break."

The Hierophant nodded. "Thank you, human."

Soleil smiled wider than usual and walked away, leaving Grima to happily find new ways to torture and kill its new favorite possession.

* * *

Soleil finally made her way back to Cordelia's homestead, but it had taken her some time to deliver all of her gifts. It was now the day of the Winter Festival. Soleil entered the house to find everyone gathered around the living room, and they all rushed to her with concern. "There you are!" Ophelia said as she crossed her arms. "Why were you gone so long? We were afraid you wouldn't make it back!"

"I'm sorry. I guess delivering all those gifts took longer than I thought."

"We were all worried!" Caeldori snapped. Cordelia stepped forward, but she didn't have any criticisms for Soleil. She just smiled at her while gently grabbing Caeldori's shoulder.

"What's important is that she's here now. We've already opened our gifts, but you can still unwrap yours."

"You guys really did get me something?"

Chrom smiled as he walked up. "Of course we did."

"But… everything you said before?"

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve anything. Merry Winter Festival, Soleil. Now come open your presents. We all want to see the look on your face."

"I know you do." Soleil set her sack down. "I spent all this time delivering presents to other people, and now I know exactly what you meant, Ophelia."

The dark mage smiled. "You do?"

"It really is something to see someone open that gift you spent all that time picking out for them. More than that, it's not about the material things. It's about just being there for your loved ones. Caring about them and their interests. It's about appreciating the people in your life. Gifts are just a part of that, but I have to say. I can't wait to watch you guys open yours. Why don't you all go first?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead." Soleil hurried over to the tree and handed Ophelia her gift. "You go first!"

Ophelia smiled as her friend seemed to take her words to heart. Everyone gathered around and watched as she unwrapped her gift, a strange tome she'd never seen before. "A tome? How thoughtful."

"It's a special tome. Henry helped me get it."

Ophelia froze. "My grandfather?!"

Ophelia used the tome, and everyone in the room besides Soleil took a step back in shock as a spectral entity materialized in front of Ophelia. "Heyo, everybody! I told you the spell would work, Soleil." The entity slowly materialized into a white haired man. "So this is Cordelia's place? I can just picture the Spirit of Winter coming down the chimney. It would really _soot_ him, ha!"

"Henry?!" Chrom exclaimed. Ophelia was still surprised, but a smile slowly appeared across her face.

"Grandfather, is that you?"

"Sure is. What, you think I can't take time off because I'm dead? I thought you guys would appreciate my _presents_ at this party, nya ha ha! I like your tree, by the way. I don't think I'll _fir-get_ it."

Soleil stepped towards the bewildered Ophelia. "Henry helped me get that tome. Now you can see him again."

Gaius scratched his head. "Wait, how did Henry contact you?"

"And why is Henry still dead if I came back for this chapter?" Cordelia added. Caeldori just patted her on the shoulder.

"Maybe we shouldn't question these things, grandmother."

"Soleil, I-" Ophelia looked between her friend and grandfather. "I don't know what to say. This is incredible."

Gaius was clearly moved by Henry's appearance, though he tried not to show it. "Gang's all here, huh?"

Soleil took another present from under the tree and held it out towards Gaius. "Got something for you, too."

"Well. Got me a present, Shrill?"

"Why do you call me Shrill?"

"I think your voice speaks for itself."

Soleil's smile faded. "Yeah, well, what if I called you… err… orange man!"

"Ooh, how will I get over that."

Chrom elbowed him. "Gaius, come on."

"Hey! It's a joke!"

Soleil tossed the present to Gaius. "Just open it before I change my mind."

Gaius unwrapped his gift to find a box of rare confections from all over the world. "Ha! Ah HA! You, you got this for me?! It has, and this, and that one there… you don't know what you're doing to me right now."

"Will you call me Soleil from now on?"

"Hell, I'll call you whatever you want. Thanks!"

Soleil then handed Cordelia her present, and she unwrapped it to find a book. "Oh, Soleil, it's… err… a book. How… how do you expect me to use this?"

Caeldori scowled. "Is this a joke?!"

"Wait, it's not a regular book. It's written in Braille. Cordelia can read it!"

Cordelia's face lit up as she ran her hand along the cover. "Make Him Fall For You In A Fortnight. I used to read this book. You got me a translation?"

"I know how much you liked it."

Cordelia flipped to a page and ran her hand along it. She suddenly blushed and held the book back to her chest. "Oh, I forgot how steamy this book could get. I-I'll read it later. By myself. Thank you, Soleil."

Soleil then handed Tiki her gift, and she opened it to find a small, red stone. No one else understood what it meant, but Tiki's eyes lit up. "This… this is a replica of a dragonstone." A warm smile appeared as she ran her fingers along it. "And it's not just a dragonstone. It's a firestone, and it looks so similar."

"It's a replica of the firestone used by your friend from when you were a girl. Uh, what was his name? Banter… Bantha… Banana? Anyways, he was a fire dragon. I had that made for you."

Tiki was genuinely moved. The firestone may have been fake, but it brought back innumerable memories all the same. "Bantu. He helped to guide me. To show me the world. Soleil, I almost feel like a girl again thinking about everything that happened. Thank you."

Soleil grabbed Chrom's present and handed it to him. "Your turn, old man."

"Oh, how thoughtful." Chrom never asked for much of anything, and he appreciated the chance to be with Soleil more than anything she could have given him. Still, he froze in place when he unwrapped his gift. It was a signet ring with the crest of House Ylisse. Everyone else thought Soleil had simply given him jewelry, but Chrom was so surprised he almost trembled. A tear even fell down his cheek. "Soleil… how… how did you…"

Caeldori looked to him. "What is it, Chrom?"

"This ring… it's…"

"It's a replica of his royal signet ring. Of course, the original is long gone, and I don't think anyone could find it, but they said that was an exact replica." Soleil answered. Chrom wiped the tear away and smiled.

"My father had that ring made to commemorate my birth. Ever since I was a boy, I thought about someday giving it to the woman I loved. I gave it to Maribelle when I proposed. She had it on her… when she died. I never thought I'd see this again. Even if it is a replica, this is wonderful, Soleil. You don't know what this means to me."

Ophelia and Caeldori gave a long and soft "aww", and Soleil nodded back to him before grabbing Caeldori's present. She then proudly handed it to her companion. "Wow, Soleil. This thing is big."

Soleil's present for Caeldori was pretty obviously a picture of some sort, but Soleil didn't care if everyone guessed that. Caeldori would never guess what it was a picture of. "Just open it, and do it slowly."

"Okay?"

Everyone gathered around as Caeldori opened the last of Soleil's presents. Soleil's gifts had made everyone very proud of her, but that feeling almost evaporated when they saw the painting. Henry pointed at it and chuckled, and Gaius burst out laughing, but everyone else just stared in annoyance or confusion. Caeldori's frustration was palpable.

Soleil had commissioned a painting of herself giving Caeldori the finger.

"SOLEIL!"

"Ha! HA! Got you! I so got you!"

"What happened?" Cordelia asked as she looked around. Ophelia filled her in, and she scowled. "Soleil! It's the Winter Festival!"

"Why do you always have to start something, Soleil?!" Caeldori fumed. "I bet this painting wasn't cheap! You spent all that gold just to do this?! That's it, I'm going to swear! You… you BISCUIT EATER! There, see what you made me say?! Why, Soleil?!"

"Why?"

"Yes!"

Soleil snickered. "I just wanted to see that look you have right now. Isn't that what I said earlier? I mean that pretty face of yours is always so stoic. I just wanted to see if you could emote."

"I can't believe this!"

"Wait, before you say anything else." Soleil snickered one last time before reaching into her sack and pulling out her last gift. Caeldori's real gift. It was a replica of the Wing Spear. "Here you go. I got you this too."

Caeldori wasn't quick to calm down, but she did look the gift over as she took it. "This… this is the weapon Caeda used. The weapon the wife of the First Exalt used. This is an extremely important symbol of the Pegasus Knights. That… was just a prank?"

"I know how much you worry about rebuilding the Pegasus Knights. I know you think you aren't up to the task. I thought that whenever you started to think you're not good enough, you could just look at that spear, and then you could think about those legends of the Pegasus Knights instead. It could inspire you."

Caeldori could only stand there, and her voice choked up as she answered. "I didn't even know you cared about me that much."

"I know we bicker a lot, but I'd like to think that we're friends, Caeldori. Merry Winter Festival, you big fop."

The Pegasus Knight smiled. "Merry Winter Festival, you slacking, skirt chasing sellsword."

With her gift giving finally over, Soleil had almost forgotten about herself entirely, but she still enjoyed the gifts everyone else had gotten for her. From Chrom she received a Levin Sword. She had no idea how to use it, but boy did it look cool. From Tiki she received adorable wyvern clothes for Minerva. The wyvern would be considerably less appreciative of them when the girls tried to put them on. From Cordelia she received an elaborate cape with symbols that represented her Ylissean and Feroxi heritage. From Caeldori she received a shiny new arm shield. Soleil considered it so pretty she didn't even want to use it in combat. From Ophelia she received a raider katana. Ophelia herself thought it looked like a weapon befitting a heroine of cursed blood. She almost talked about the weapon like she'd wanted it for herself, but she was considerably less enamored with it after Soleil informed her of its special property. Finally, from Gaius, Soleil received an exact copy of her grandmother's dancing attire. This got him dirty looks from Chrom and Cordelia, but Soleil herself loved it.

* * *

Later that night, after the festivities had ended and almost everyone else had gone to sleep, Soleil sat alone by the fireplace in the living room. She looked up at the sound of quiet talking to see Ophelia and Henry still up. "So do you think the Parallel Falchion itself could be modified with dark magic?"

"I don't see why not."

Ophelia sipped a glass of eggnog she'd made for herself in the kitchen. "Because I have so many ideas. I could give it serrated edges, and maybe have them move like a mechanical saw. Maybe I could have it bursting with radiance, and I could make it shoot concentrated blasts of dark magic. Maybe I could even give it a curse so that it draws from the wielder's life force. That would make it more powerful, but at the same time, you could only risk using it when the situation is dire. Now that would be a weapon for a heroine of cursed blood! Wait… the sword was Lucina's. Maybe I should honor her memory. Do you think she would mind from what you know of her?"

Henry thought. "Hmm, I never really knew Lucina that well, but I don't think she'd complain about a serrated, flaming, laser shooting sword that eats your soul."

"Oh, good. Good then."

"Does it also eat clothing?"

"N-No. This isn't that kind of sword."

"Okay. So that's just the sword you got for Soleil."

"I, uh, I really hope she only uses it responsibly." Ophelia turned as she noticed her friend sitting there. "Oh! Hey, Soleil!"

"Hey." She answered softly.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know. Just thinking about the day."

"Well I'm proud of you, Soleil. You really did think about what everyone would want. I know we couldn't give you everything on that ridiculous list, but did you get what you really wanted?"

"I did, Ophelia. Thank you."

Ophelia nodded as she and Henry left the room. Soleil smiled at her until she did, but it disappeared completely when she was alone. In truth, she hadn't gotten what she really wanted. What she wanted most of all had been at the very top of her list, but her friends didn't read it as their eyes had been drawn to the center of the long list. It was something she'd wanted her whole life, but she'd never gotten it. Deep down, Soleil knew full well that it was something no one could ever give her, but she still felt a little better writing it down. Soleil sunk into her chair and enjoyed the warmth of the fire as she thought about what she wanted more than anything.

A father.

* * *

(Just to let you all know, the next update will be the next recap chapter. This story probably won't recieve a major update until January. However, there is something you can do for me until then. Tell me who some of your favorite characters are, and I'd also like to know if there's any aspect of this story that you think could be better or that you'd like to change. Your answers would mean a lot to me.)


	53. The Final Update

Hello everyone. I've finally decided how my extensive rewrite of this story will play out. This is going to come across as very severe, but it's been a long time coming, and I feel that it's best for the story.

I'm going to start this story over again, ignoring the established plot entirely. I plan to be far more concise in my retelling while also focusing more on character development. I deeply apologize if it seems like I've been stringing those who have regularly followed this story along, but I sincerely think this move will produce a better fic in the end. If anything, I'm considerably more interested in this story again, and that alone should lead to an increase in quality.

The plot won't be completely different, and you may find many of the new chapters familiar, but the differences are extensive enough to warrant a new story.

This story will be left posted so anyone can reread it if they desire. The new story is up by the time of this update.

To give you an idea of what's coming, here are some of the changes I'd like to implement.

* * *

\- As mentioned before, the story will be more concise, and major conflicts will be resolved more quickly. The old story never provided enough closure and was too quick to set up new plot arcs. For example, I plan for the new Act 1 to end with a major victory over the Grimleal, though there will still be a long way to go.

\- There will be more characterization given to Ophelia, Soleil, and Caeldori. They'll be more independent of Chrom. At the same time, his relationship with the three will get more attention.

\- Less OCs. Some have to show up in a story set so far in the future, but they'll be introduced more carefully and will be more fleshed out. I'll also have this same mentality with the minor villains. I really enjoyed writing characters like Vasto and Pheros, so expect to see more of them.

\- The Grimleal is reimagined as a more theocratic regime, and Gangrel rules as a kind of god on Earth. Still, I'll try to reveal his nuanced reasons for doing everything he did, and the Grimleal as a whole will still be fleshed out as it was.

\- The antagonists will be introduced in stages. The likes of Aversa and Grima itself will appear much later, and they'll be more threatening.

\- I'll try to have characters who didn't do a whole lot, like Cordelia and Tiki, receive more attention.

\- Archangel and the Arch Surg will probably be introduced earlier, and they'll be portrayed more heroically. That isn't to say the antagonistic role they partially played is entirely forgotten.

\- Certain plot points, like the mystery of where Severa went or the purpose behind Corriveau and the not Shepherds, will be explored earlier.

\- Expect to see certain developed characters like Gaius and Henry again. Others like Tharja will appear after significant reinterpretation of their role in the story.

* * *

Please feel free to contact me and let me know how you feel about these changes. I appreciate feedback. Again, I apologize for not providing true closure to this story, but the new fic is more planned out and will be much improved. As always, thanks for reading, and I appreciate you coming along for the ride.


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